


Stopping and Stalling

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: Avengers (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Getting Together, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Peter is Tony's Biological Son, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-04-28 09:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: " “I should inform you, sir, that there is a twelve year old boy who calls himself ‘Peter Parker’ on your doorstep.” JARVIS says, “Should I let him in? Is he expected?”“Parker?” Tony remembers something about that name, it brings back memories of dark hair and bright blue eyes, “show me the video feed, J.” The AI does as bid and Tony can see the kid. He looks terrified, his clothes are worn and they look like they need a good wash. Tony is shocked by how much the boy looks like him. "So Tony has a son, Steve has a crush, and Natasha needs to stay out of other people's business.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony is three days into a work binge; he’s slept, sure an hour on the worktop passed out totally counts; this time he’s eaten too. Pepper had dropped things by the lab yesterday, and he’s still got three-quarters of a cheese sandwich left in the tiny under-the-counter fridge. He’s not even consumed a drop of alcohol either, which he is quite proud of. He knows that there are at least four days left of this thing he has going, four days before he has his next board meeting where the thing he’s working on will go on display. He’ll have to argue with the board again, make them see that giving up the weapons was a good move, it’ll take some convincing, but he’s pretty sure the thing will work. 

Eight fried wires later, and a slightly singed off eyebrow, and he’s slamming his head into the surface; his fingers are itching towards the bottle of whiskey that’s sitting on the counter opposite him. The smell of burning hair is going to linger in the room for quite some time, and honestly Tony does not want to deal with it, but the generator comes to life beneath his hands, and everything seems worth it. It takes everything in his willpower to not go running about the tower letting the whole team know how god damn good he is. Though, he’d promised to let them all sleep after they had got back from a particularly nasty mission (which he’d not be needed for) so he decided to let them sleep. 

“J, run those numbers through to rnd,” Tony looks up at the ceiling, “and bring up the specs, please.”

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS responds, as Tony goes back to staring at his newest success.

“Fuck weapons, this is much more better,” Tony stops himself, trying to make sense of the words that are coming out of his mouth. “Coffee, I need coffee.”

“Sir, I would advise against that, your caffeine intake has reached almost dangerous levels,” JARVIS says if Tony didn't know that the AI had no emotions he’d almost think he could hear worry coming from the robot. 

“Oh, I know you love me, J but I am starting to hear colour, and that means I need a coffee,” Tony smiles, “Dum-e if you do not put down that coffee pot I will donate you to community college, don’t even try it.” Tony takes the pot from the errant bot and sets it down on the counter. “Its like herding cats around here, J, start the machine in the common room. Also what time is it?” 

“It is seven o’clock in the morning, sir,” JARVIS replies with just a hint of humour discernible. 

“And the date, J?” Tony asks because he isn’t entirely sure, he remembers heading down to the lab on a Monday. 

“It is Wednesday, the 16th of April. And the year is 2014,” JARVIS says. 

“Right, that means Cap’ll be up, good, okay,” Tony nods absently and starts to head towards the common room. “I should probably let someone know I’m alive,” Tony mutters before walking down the corridor. 

The common floor living room is empty; Tony knew it would be, most of the time the team doesn't start getting up and ready for the day until later in the morning. Steve would be in the kitchen, reading the paper and eating after his run; if Tony was lucky, there would be spare food for him to steal. Gold rays of the rising sun stream in through the floor to ceiling windows coating the room in a soft, warm light. It is spring in New York and the world is just about waking up from the winter. This is the kind of weather Tony loves, the kind of weather he loved in California, not cold enough for things to be grey and miserable and not warm enough for there to be too many bugs. 

He smiles as he moves into the kitchen, and sees Steve sitting there, spoon in one hand and paper in the other. There’s a light sheen to him, not enough to be called sweat but something; Steve must have run further than he normally does. The paper is half finished meaning that Steve has been in the kitchen a while. Bacon is sizzling in the pan though, despite the fact that there’s already a half-finished bacon sandwich sitting beside Steve. 

“JARVIS told me you were surfacing,” Steve smiles by way of explanation, “I though you’d want something more than what you’ve got down there in the lab. Thought I’d make a little extra anyway if the others came up early.”

“Good well, I have a board meeting in four days, so, I’m just going to head back to the lab. Thanks for the bacon, Cap,” Tony takes the bacon out the pan and starts shoving it unceremoniously on a plate before moving to run down to the lab. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve stands in front of the door, blocking Tony’s exit. “You’re going to sit at the breakfast bar, drink some juice and eat a proper breakfast.” 

“I am a functioning adult, Steve; I can take care of myself,” Tony grimaces and tried to dodge around Steve to get back to the safety of his lab. 

“That is the biggest pile of shit I have ever heard,” Clint laughs as he sits at the breakfast bar, stealing some of Steve’s toast. “You are barely even an adult, let alone a functioning one. Thanks for breakfast, Stevie.” “You know I left some toast in the toaster for you, there was no need to steal mine,” Steve says mildly sitting down next to Clint. “Come on Tony, just sit and eat with us for once.” 

“I should inform you, sir, that there is a twelve-year-old boy who calls himself ‘Peter Parker’ on your doorstep.” JARVIS says, “Should I let him in? Is he expected?”

“Parker?” Tony remembers something about that name, it brings back memories of dark hair and bright blue eyes, “show me the video feed, J.” The AI does as bid and Tony can see the kid. He looks terrified, his clothes are worn and they look like they need a good wash. Tony is shocked by how much the boy looks like him. 

“He says he is your son, sir, should I let him in?” JARVIS sounds almost amused; there is a small of tiny of worry in that usually impassive voice. JARVIS zooms in on the picture the boy is holding something to the camera. A crumpled piece of paper with the tower’s address hastily scribbled on it, there’s a name there too and a photo of a girl, Mary Parker, looks about twenty-five; she’s smiling at the camera. Tony feels like ice has been poured down his back; he knows her, they had about two dates back when Tony was trying to fit in with what his father wanted him to be.

“Mr- Mr- Mr Stark? Please, you gotta let me in!” The boy says, “you gotta let me in!” Peter is wearing an old hoodie, and torn up jeans; he looks like he hasn't slept in a week, he has various bits of garden stuck in his hair. 

“Fuck,” Tony says standing up, “J let him in.” He’s freaking out, trying to remember what the hell happened back then, but the memories are too frayed and patchy to be clear. “Tony,” Steve breathes, “did you know?” Steve is looking at him with his wide blue eyes; there is no judgement in them; mainly curiosity. 

“Oh yeah, Steve, of course, I knew. I had a son and completely abandoned him and his mother. And now I am super fucking upset that he’s standing at my door because god fucking damn it I thought I had gotten rid of him,” Tony is going slightly hysterical. 

“Mr Parker is in the elevator, sir,” JARVIS says breaking the tension, there’s a collective breath from all three men in the room. “He appears to be in good health, though he is sleep deprived. He is also exhibiting signs of extreme stress and anxiety.” 

“What the hell happened to him?” Steve asks, breaking eye contact with Tony, he looks around the room; the rest of them seem just a lost as he is. Suddenly, he turns to Tony looking at him with really soft eyes, “do you want us to go, Tony?” 

“I don’t think I do,” Tony shakes his head, his eyes. “God. What the fuck would my dad say- actually don’t answer that, please.” Tony holds up his hand. “What the fuck am I gonna do?” 

“Wait, don’t freak out-“ Clint starts.

“Too late,” Tony squeaks. 

“No, we don’t know if the kid is actually yours, you can’t just believe him like that. His mother could have told him to come here and get money from you-“

“Dude, the kid was terrified,” Steve looks at Clint incredulously. 

“Kids are good actors,” Clint shrugs, “I would know,” its one of those strange moments where Clint, who is usually so quiet about his past makes a reference to his life so casually. The other two stop and look at him, but Clint has shut himself off again and his face is closed. 

“Sir, Mr Parker is one floor away,” JARVIS’s voice echoes through the silent kitchen, “you may wish to go out and meet him.”

“Alright J,” Tony looks at Steve with panic in his eyes, “can you guys stay here; I’m going to bring him to the living room but, can you please?”

“Sure, Tony,” Steve smiles encouragingly but there’s something in his eyes which isn't quite a judgement but isn't exactly friendly either. Tony knows that Steve and Clint will be talking about him the whole he’s with Peter. 

He walks out the door, part of him not caring, but another part wishing he’d been better. He’s not quite sure what better means but he still wishes he had been. The elevator whirrs to a stop just as he leans up against the opposite wall. Thoughts speed around his head at a thousand miles an hour, he hopes this Peter kid is cool; he wants them to get along but he’s also thinking about what Clint said. Honestly, it would be shitty of whoever it was to send a kid after him, he hopes that's not true, and that Clint is just his usual paranoid self. The doors to the elevator open with a slight hiss. Peter Parker is small, just like Tony had been at his age, the more Tony looks at the kid, the more he can see himself. They have the same shaggy brown hair and deep brown eyes, though Peter is a lot paler than he is. 

“Hi,” Peter says, his voice cracking a little, “um.” He fiddles with the strings of his hoodie; he’s rocking back and forth on his feet, another trait he seems to have inherited from Tony. “So, you’re my dad then.” 

Tony doesn't know what to say, he’d never even thought of allowing himself to have kids and now his son is standing in front of him. There’s no room in his mind for doubt that this kid is really his son, they have the same nose, the same straight line in the jaw, the same shape to their eyes. There’s an uprising of emotion inside him as he realises that this might his chance to have what he never thought he could. 

“Hi, kid,” Tony croaks out, “come on we can head through to the living room and you can tell me everything.” 

“‘Kay,” Peter nods and follows Tony’s lead, he really is a small kid; he’s only about 4’6. Tony could lift him with ease, which he knows isn't normal. Peter moves almost silently too like he’s some cat or spider.

The get to the living room and Peter looks around with wide eyes, Clint and Steve are just about visible in the kitchen, which is just off to one side. Peter freezes at the sight of the other Avengers, but instead of fear on his face, he looks almost awestruck. Tony wants to laugh but he knows that this would be exactly the wrong thing to do in front of his son that he only just met. 

“So, kid, are you okay?” Tony asks, “Cause whether you’re really my son or not, showing up here in the state you’re in is tellin’ me that things aren’t exactly peaches.” 

“Uh, so my mom and dad were working for shield when they died in a plane crash, it was when I was real young so, ‘m used to not having them around so much. I went to live with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben and everything was fine until like a month ago?” Peter pauses and takes a deep breath, “May and Ben were fighting because it looked like someone had broken into the house. In to the room where my dad’s stuff was kept, it looked like they’d read through it all but hadn't taken anything. Aunt May wanted to move, but Uncle Ben kept saying that we shouldn’t let em win.” Peter stops and fiddles with his hoodie again, the cuffs are fraying and coming apart and the dusky blue material looks like its been through three or four too many washes. 

“Right on to your uncle, but what made you come over here?” Tony asks, looking at the kid over his glasses, with what he hopes is a kind encouraging smile on his face. 

“Aunt May said I should go over to my friend Ned’s house last night, just while she and Ben sorted things out,” Peter takes a deep breath, he looks so small sitting on Tony’s couch. He just wants to go over to the kid and make him feel safe. Tony nods shifting a little closer to the boy. “So I did what she said, but I remembered I’d left my school stuff at home because I packed so quick last night. When I got there, the house was empty and I couldn't find Aunt May or Uncle Ben anywhere. I didn't know what to do so I figured I needed to grab the folder and come here.” 

“The folder?” Tony asks, “wait before then, do you have a picture of Aunt May and Uncle Ben? I can use that to help us find them.” Tony explains as Peter reaches for his phone. The kid hands over the phone, on the screen, is a picture of three people all at Disney World together. “Great, thanks, Peter.” Tony air drops the picture on to JARVIS’s server. “You got that, J?” 

“I am already scanning the local area, sir,” JARVIS answers. “Would you like me to expand the search citywide?” 

“Try nationwide. We don’t know how long its been since they were last seen in the local area,” Tony says, smiling as he watches Peter try and work out where the voice is coming from. 

“You have an AI?” Peter asks, which throws Tony because, damn, even Coulson had taken longer to work JARVIS out than that. 

“Yup,” Tony nods, “you can talk to him too, you know, he’ll answer to just about anyone. Now, that folder, have you got it?” He notices for the first time the patched up backpack that has somehow ended up at Peter’s feet. 

“Yeah,” Peter says handing it to him, “didn’t read all of it, just the first few pages, but they seemed so…” He gestures a little, his fingers shaking; he gives Tony a slight grin. 

“Right,” Tony sets his face in what hopes is a neutral expression. It helps, he thinks, having someone there who he has to keep calm for, someone who needs him to be the person who knows what to do. The folder is a standard manila folder, though its pretty full. The first page is taken up with a handwritten letter. 

 

Tony, 

If you’re reading this, then something has happened to May and Ben and this folder has ended being passed to you by their will. Inside is all the evidence that Peter, who I hope is old enough to deal with this all, is your son. There is a DNA test that Ms Potts helped me to conduct, and a timeline with provenance associated. You are also welcome to add your name to his birth certificate if you want to.

You might not remember me; I don’t really expect you to. You were in state to remember anything then, that’s why we only went on two dates before I broke up with you. Not before the mistake had been made, honestly, Peter is the best thing that has ever happened to me; and I don’t regret the act that brought him into the world. I didn’t want to burden you with knowing he existed, I know how you felt about kids; I hope that’s changed, Tony. You are the only one Peter has left now, and you are going to take care of our boy. 

Don’t screw this up, Tony, please. 

Mary. 

Tony finishes the letter with tears in his eyes, he remembers Mary, he remembers her breaking up with him; he doesn't remember much else though. For the first time, he properly looks at Peter, and he sees so much of her in him that it makes him choke up a little. He isn't even mad at Pepper for providing his DNA without asking him. Reality is slowly setting in on him and he’s pretty sure he has no idea what to do. 

“Have you had anything to eat, since last night?” He finds himself saying, “because Steve made extra bacon and you know, I don’t know if you like bacon but we have lots of other food if you want. You don’t have to, but if you’re going to be here for a while, then you might as well have food.” He smiles weakly putting the folder carefully on the coffee table. “Can’t go looking for your Aunt and Uncle on an empty stomach.” He shrugs when Peter looks at him with wide eyes. 

“I guess I could eat,” he mumbles, shock and horror not being enough to deter a hungry twelve-year-old boy. 

Peter is sitting at the breakfast bar, listening to Clint explain his arrows, he’s got one hand on a fork and the other tracing the arrows’ fletching. Clint’s smiling, always happy to talk about archery; Tony looks on, both hands curled around a coffee mug. Steve watches him, dark brown eyes catching the few rays of warm morning sun turning them the colour of whiskey. Tony has this tiny small smile on his face; he’s resting on the countertop, he looks so gentle and soft; he was breathing slowly his head angled towards Peter. 

“Tony,” Steve places a hand on his elbow, “can I have a sec?” He really doesn't want to tear the man away from his son, not just yet, but his duties as team leader are catching up to him. He knows that he needs to get Stark thinking about how he’s going to take care of the kid while Tony leads the kind of life that he does. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure Cap,” Tony nods, not taking his eyes off his son, “just lemme get some more coffee, not sure when I emptied this mug but there’s nothing in it and that should be against the law.” He pours himself another cup, lifting the pot in Steve’s direction; Steve smiles a little and shakes his head. 

They meet in the living room, just out of earshot of the kitchen, where Thor and Jane have just dropped in. Peter is staring at the god in awe while talking to Jane about his latest science project; Steve figure the boy would be smart but he’s surprised to hear that Peter is already in high school. Tony sits carefully on a chair facing Steve’s, he’s looking at him a little warily, but there’s no distrust. Now and then, Tony steals glances into the kitchen and every time he sees Peter smile or he hears him laugh, there’s just a little more love painted on his features than there was before. 

“Tony, I need to ask,” Steve pauses, taking a breath, “what if we don’t find Peter’s family? What’s the plan here? I don’t want to upset you, I really don’t but these things have to be thought of.”

“I know, Cap, I get it.” Tony shakes his head, “Tony Stark shouldn't be a father. Peter’s mom thought so too. Well, maybe I don’t find myself hating the idea, maybe I want to be a dad to this kid. Maybe, I could be.” Tony is muttering like Steve isn’t there, he is completely in his head. He looks up at Steve with pure determination in his eyes. “I’ll take him, if we don’t find his aunt and uncle, I’ll take him.” 

“And what happens when you’re captured by some lunatics? What happens when he becomes a target, you know he will. Tony, please, think about it before you leap headfirst into this. Having a kid is not a joke-“

“I know!” Tony half shouts, he looks panicked like someone just poured ice water down his neck, “I know, honestly I’ve been winging it since the kid came in. There’s a paternity certificate in there; he’s really mine, and I never knew, all the time he’s been out there and there’s so much I’ve missed. Now, though, I’m here and I’m going to make it right, you know Cap. This information that I’m his dad is out there, it's in some database somewhere anyway and it would only be a matter of time until someone nasty found out. Isn’t he safest here, with you, Clint, Bucky, Tash, Bruce, and Sam, anyway? Wouldn't you guys keep him safe?” Tony’s babbling, which he only does when he’s scared out of his mind.

“Yes,” Steve knows now, that this child, Peter, is worth his life. “Of course. But Tony, we aren’t the most normal family are we?”

“How is normal good?” Tony sniggers, he’s fiddling with the Iron Man bracelets, Steve knows its nervous tick. He wants nothing more than to hold Tony’s hand. 

“If this is what you want, then you have my support, one hundred percent.” Steve sighs.

“Stark! Your child is truly made of honour, a wonderful continuation of your prodigy,” Thor shouts from the kitchen.

“What did he do?” Tony asks, perking up, and standing to move into the kitchen but not before he casts Steve a grateful look. “Thank you, Steve.” Steve stands and follows Tony into the kitchen. 

“Sir, I have located Mr Parker’s aunt and uncle,” JARVIS says, the mood in the kitchen shifts, Tony looks at Peter who has a hopeful expression on his face. “They are being held in a Hydra facility just outside of Düsseldorf, I should warn you, Sir, that I cannot tell whether they are alive,” JARVIS says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know I said that the chapters would be bi-weekly but I am terrible and wrote this anyways so here you go. Some warning for this it includes some character death, and violence, and a little bit of gore. It's necessary though, enjoy!

“JARVIS, gimme options,” Tony asks as he dips and dives past the Hydra agents that had crowded around the warehouse.

“There’s a small hatch in the roof, Sir, it should be big enough for you to fit through, there are two agents on the roof to your left,” JARVIS answers, sounding like he was proud of himself. 

“Cap, I’m going in through the roof,” Tony tells him, with little room for Steve to question, he dives for the hatch, letting his repulsers take care of the Hydra agents that were waiting for him there. “Bye,” he smiles at them, forgetting for a minute that they wouldn't have been able to see it through the suit. 

“Tony,” Steve says over comms from where he’s taking down about six agents at once. “Be careful, Hawkeye can you get up on to the roof and provide back up for Iron Man. Tony’s turned his comms off.”

“Sure thing, need a boost though,” Clint grins and hops down from the tree he’d been sitting in, “can’t just jump on to the roof, Cap.” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve kicks the man in front of him in the face, taking him down with a groan. He kneels on the floor, shield above his head as Hawkeye runs towards him, there’s a sudden weight, and then he’s pushing up watching as Clint flies through the air with a leap and a flip. Clint lands on the roof, skidding on a patch of moss, in just enough time to see Tony jump into the warehouse through the hatch. “Hawkeye!” Cap calls, but Clint is already sliding through the hatch with a quick grin. 

“On it!” Clint disappears with a shout, his bow disappearing into the building. Steve can hear Tony and Clint land with a soft thump; he turns his attention back to the swarm of agents that he, Natasha, and Sam are currently trying to clear. He wishes that they had a few more people, he decides that in the morning they’d send a memo to Scott Lang. 

***

Inside the building its a mess of dripping walls, with mould and damp streaking down them. Tony is flying; he doesn't want to make a sound, in case he alerts the guards; at least, he thinks there’re guards. He feels Clint land behind him, he hears the soft rush of air and the thump of boots; and he knows he has backup inside the building now, he enjoys the sense of confidence it gives him. Clint slips past him, darting down the corridor to the right, he moves entirely soundlessly; like a ghost. Tony watches him go, letting out a puff of air before he flies off down the opposite corridor. 

The corridor is long, it stretches off into the darkness; there are no lights, well there are some, but the bulbs are completely gone, they would be no help to him at all. Tony thanks himself that he installed night vision into the suit. He’s humming some random song to himself as he sets off, checking behind him now and then. Doors line the corridor; they are solid steel though they are rusty they look strong still, their frames provide a small amount of cover, enough for someone clad in black to jump out from behind them. 

“JARVIS,” Tony calls, “any signs of life?”

“Not that I can see, Sir,” JARVIS tells him, “though there is a body shape in a room at the end of the corridor, Sir. It appears to be holding some residual heat, perhaps it worth looking at, Sir.” “JARVIS, can you tell who it is?” Tony sighs, praying beyond hope that it is not May or Ben.

“I cannot, Sir, sorry,” JARVIS sounds almost sad as he answers.

“Okay, what about guards? Are there any guards nearby that I need to worry about?” Tony looks around the space. 

“No, Sir, there are no signs of life anywhere near your current position. Captain Rogers does wish to inform you that the rest of the team is moving into the building.” JARVIS says, “he also wishes you to turn on your comm, Sir.” 

“Fine,” he does as he’s told, “hi team!” Tony says he’s trying for bright and happy, rather than shitting his pants. But his voice is lacking his usual jovial tone, he knows what he’s going to find at the end of the corridor, and its weighing on his mind. 

“Iron Man, you have to stop turning off your comms,” Steve doesn't even sound annoyed, he sounds, Tony thinks, worried. “We need to be able to contact you.” Tony realises he’s right, that there is worry bleeding through the Captain America voice. That Steve sounds more like Steve, and not Captain America than he usually does when they're fighting for their lives. 

“Sorry, Cap,” Tony mumbles, “didn’t want you to try and stop me.” He doesn't get a proper response to that, just a huff of air which could have been a small laugh. 

He reaches the end of the corridor, getting to the tiny cell JARVIS told him about. Tony looks inside the cramped room; there’re scratches all over the walls from some previous occupant. A pile of dirty hay sits in a corner, apparently, that’s supposed to be a bed, but it looks like its alive with all the insects that are crawling around in it. There are dark black stains all around the room, splatters of it going up the walls, which are dripping with damp. Tony shudders as he sees the high barred window; a pigeons nest is perched on the ledge, but the bird has gone, probably scared off from all the noise. May is in one corner; she is lying very. Still, her lips are blue, and her eyes are closed. She’s covered in dirt and blood; there’s a pool of it surrounding her. If Tony hadn't studied the picture Peter showed him very carefully; he wouldn't have known it was her save for the clothes she’s wearing. Tony sighs and swears loudly, the realisation setting in that Peter may have lost another relative. 

“JARVIS,” he says his voice cracking, “scan for vitals.” He knows deep inside somewhere that even if they find a pulse the chances are May won’t wake. Everything in that moment seems hopeless because if the people here killed May, her husband probably went the same way. He curses again because he’s going to have to be a dad, something he is very much not ready for. All the confidence he was feeling that morning seems to have fled from him. 

The AI is silent for a few beats. Tony can hear the sounds of battle coming from somewhere else in the building. “I’m sorry, Sir, I cannot find a pulse.” 

“Steve, tell me you’ve found Ben alive and well,” Tony pleads over the coms. “May is down; I repeat May is down. There’s nothing I can do.” 

“Negative,” Steve’s voice is crackling, but Tony can hear the desperation in it. “There’s no sign of him; he must be in another cell in your quadrant. Keep searching Iron Man.” Tony knows that Steve is trying to give him orders, to keep him focused and on his game. He gives in. Letting the Captain choose his next move. 

“East or West of here, Captain,” he asks. He doesn’t want to make any decisions at the moment. A part of him has shut down, the part that would be cracking jokes and forcing humour through what they're doing. What is left is a burning pit of fury, it boils up inside him, swirling and hissing through his mind. He knows that any decisions he makes from now on will be clouded by the fury; so he surrenders himself fully to Steve, trusting him implicitly with everything. “Steve, please.” He chokes on the words. 

“Try the East. Then move on to the West.” Steve must notice something in his voice because he doesn't even ask Tony, why the usually disobedient component of their team has given in to being a proper soldier. “Don’t stay quiet on the comms, let us know what you're doing, Iron Man.” He’s all business, his voice is hard, and Tony knows that this is the soldier that helped win the war for America. 

The battle is hard, it takes a lot out of them, but soon enough they seem to be reaching the end. All of them are outside a room that has been barricaded from the inside. The Hydra agents are making their final stand. Tony knows they have Ben with them, that if any one of them makes one false move, then Peter will have lost both his aunt and uncle; he knows that it will be his fault. Steve is in front of him; even Captain America hasn't been left unscathed, there’s a massive cut just above his left eyebrow, it must have bled a lot because there’s a broad red streak trailing down his face. Tony looks up at him asking a silent question, he’s not wearing the face plate, and Steve presses two fingers to his chin keeping it in place as he looks at Tony’s face. Steve moves to pull away, but Tony grabs his wrist, not willing to let the comfort go then. There’s an eyebrow raised in a question, but Tony shakes his head, the rest of the team is looking at them; there’s a strange feeling in the air like time has paused. Then a shot echoes from the room and they’re in action again, Tony slams down the face plate and kicks open the door. 

“Clint! Tasha! Get to Ben,” Cap yells as he sees, through the splintered wood, Peter’s uncle collapse on to the floor. They surge forwards, moving together like the well-oiled team they are, each of them following the plan they hadn't needed to speak to make. 

They’re deathly silent, Tony and Steve, as they take out every Hydra agent in the room; it’s almost methodical the way they work together to deal out blows. It must only take them five minutes to take down fifteen or so men, because, Clint and Natasha have only just started to patch up Ben’s wounds. Ben is breathing, Tony is relieved to see, but only just; the breaths are shallow and short, they seem to be painful too. 

“Mr Stark,” the words are followed by a moan of pain, Tony can barely hear them, but he goes over to Ben as quickly as possible. He snaps the faceplate off so that Ben can see him properly. There’s blood pooling on his shirt, on his chest, Tony presses on the wound applying pressure. “Mr Stark,” Ben gasps, he’s smiling slightly though. “You and I both know there ain’t no coming back from this.”

“We’ll get you back to the tower; I have the best doctors in Manhattan there, we even have Doctor Banner. He’ll get you through this, then when you’re better you and Peter can go home.” Tony rambles desperately trying to stop the flow of blood. 

“No,” Ben shakes his head, “no, that’s not going to happen.” He’s obviously having trouble breathing, and his speech is becoming more and more slurred. “You take care of our boy, you make him good, Tony Stark. You tell him that I love him, that his Aunt May loves him, that his mom loves him.”

“Okay,” Tony nods, “okay. I will.” He is dimly aware that he’s crying, the tears streaking down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. “I’ll take care of him.” 

“Good,” Ben shudders, his breath rattling in his chest. “Raise him right, Stark.” He says, and then he tenses once before he releases a puff of air, and his chest doesn't move again. 

“Fuck,” Tony says, dropping his head on to Ben’s chest. “What the hell am I going to do?” His voice cracks, his tears have not stopped falling. 

“We’re going to get the cleanup squad in; they’re going to bring May and Ben back to New York, while we go to the debrief; I’ll make it quick. Actually, I’ll do the debrief on the quinjet; Fury will have to deal with it.” Steve says, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Then you’re going to go home, and explain what happened to Peter, and you’re going to be there for your son.” 

“Yeah,” Tony nods, “yeah I can do this.” He’s shaking when he stands; his knees can’t find a way to keep him upright. He half collapses before Steve’s arm works its way around his waist, holding Tony against his body. 

“You’re going to be fine Tony,” Steve murmurs, dipping his head down so that he can whisper into Tony’s ear low enough that the rest of the team can’t hear. “You are going to be a great dad.” And if Tony pretty much purrs like a cat, then Steve won’t tell a soul. 

The quinjet is silent on their way back, Steve is talking in a hushed voice to Fury, though they're arguing he has no wish for Tony to hear what Fury is saying. The SHEILD director is spouting some nonsense about Tony being a liability, that Tony now can’t be an Avenger because he has the added responsibility of a child. Fury wants him to bench Iron Man for the foreseeable future; Steve knows that doing anything of the kind would break Tony. He tries to hold in his anger. He really does. But Fury is spouting all sorts of nonsense, and Steve really can’t reign it in any longer, he sees red and then he’s shouting. 

“Honestly, Sir, Tony has to go and tell his twelve-year-old son, that he only just found out about and met, that his aunt and uncle have died; so really, Sir, with all due respect I will shove my shield so far up your-“ 

“Okay, we gotta go, sir,” Natasha stands in front of Steve. “I will report to you at HQ tomorrow morning at 0900.” As Fury hangs up with a huff, she turns around. There’s a huge smile on her face. “Don’t worry; I’ll save your ass.” She shrugs, “I do it for Stark on the regular anyway. Besides sometimes, when Fury gets really annoying, Clint will take out his hearing aids, and I’ll pretend to have forgotten English.” She grins, “Stark needs you to be with him in this, the kid practically worships the ground you walk on, and I think Stark really does need help. So, I’ll cover for you with Fury, and you get Iron Man back up to where he was.” She walks away and goes to sit with Clint, signing to him, her hands a rapid blur. 

Steve takes a breath; Tony is staring at him from the driver’s seat, the quinjet is on autopilot zooming over the water. It’s the first time that Tony has ever looked thoroughly and utterly lost, his big brown eyes are full of emotion, so much so that they almost look like they’re going to spill at any time. He walks over to him, dumping the shield in a corner of the ship on his way; there’s another chair next to the driver’s seat, meant for a navigator if the quinjet is ever forced offline. Steve drops into the seat, his hand on Tony’s shoulder, it twitches beneath his touch; it's almost enough to make Steve pull away, but Tony’s hand covers his. 

The world passes them by as the moment seems to drag on for far longer than it should, Steve looks at Tony, noticing the lines on his face from where he smiles. Tony’s hand on top of his is lightly calloused from his time in the shop; Steve can see the web of thin white scars from too many hours in the workshop. There’s dust, dirt, and not a small amount of blood covering Steve; any other time he would feel slightly embarrassed by it, but Tony looks the same. His face is layered with smudges of red and brown, without even thinking about Steve raises his other hand to cup Tony’s cheek. It never even crosses his mind that the rest of the team can see them, because, honestly he doesn't care. Tony leans into the touch, even though it’s slightly awkward, Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Time passes, it feels like hours but must be no more than a few seconds before JARVIS’s voice echoes through the quinjet and the moment is shattered. 

“Approaching New York at a speed of 2,500 km/h, Sir,” the AI says, “all relevant authorities have been informed of your arrival; Ms Potts has Mr Parker in the rnd lab on the twentieth floor.” 

“Thanks, J,” Tony mutters, turning away from Steve, he hesitates for a moment. “Steve?” 

“Yeah, Tony,” Steve sighs, still ignoring the way the rest of the team is most definitely staring at them. 

“Don’t- please-“ Tony pauses and seems to struggle for the right words, “I can’t do this alone.” The words come out rushed and quiet like Tony has been keeping them deep down for a long time. “I can’t tell him alone; I can’t.” He runs a hand through his dishevelled hair; Steve notices that it shakes a little.

“Then you don’t have to,” Steve squeezes his shoulder once before dropping his hand, “as long as you want me there, I will be.” He knows its true; it has been for a while, it only just hits him then just how much Tony means to him. 

“Thanks, Steve,” Tony exhales, his chest sinking as he scrubs a hand across his face, “let's do this then.” 

The jet lands and is folded into the hangar in the tower with its usual ease, Clint and Natasha disappear somewhere, probably to find Bruce and Bucky to update them on the mission. Usually, they would have gone together to update the rest of the team, but this time, Steve and Tony head for the twentieth floor, where SI have their office and labs. The elevator ride there is quiet and tense, Tony looks more tired than he ever has done and there is nothing that Steve can do apart from being there for him. 

“Mr Stark!” Peter yells as he runs to Tony, “Ms Potts showed me the newest Stark Phone, it’s awesome! That holographic camera is so cool! Is it true you designed it all yourself?” Peter takes a deep breath. “Wait, no don’t answer that just yet, did you find my aunt and uncle? Are they okay? Can I see them? Where are they? Are they waiting for me at home? Are they hurt? Can I go home?” Tony doesn't say anything he puts his hands on Peter's shoulder to still him a bit. 

“Take a breath before you pass out, kid,” Tony grumbles, his voice low and soothing, “we should take this somewhere a little more private, huh, we don’t want everyone here knowing all your business, do we?” He gives Peter a little smile and moves to steer him towards the offices, stopping before he starts to walk. “I have a room here still which we can use to talk some things out, okay?” Tony asks, looking at Peter, waiting for the boy to answer. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Peter shrugs and moves in the direction Tony was steering him. 

“Do you mind if Steve comes with us?” Tony says, looking at Peter again, “if you don’t want him in there, all you have to do is say.” Steve is shocked by how patient and kind Tony is being, even though he knows that the only thing Tony wants to do right then is get everything over and done with. 

“That’s cool too I guess,” Peter shrugs again, he’s turned from excited and full of energy into the quiet and vaguely scared boy Steve had seen that morning, which is honestly heartbreaking. “Is he gonna be our bodyguard or something?” It’s a childish question, but Steve knows that it isn't uncommon for children to regress a little when scared or nervous. 

“Something like that,” Steve says, after getting a small nod from Tony, “I’m here to make sure that everything’s okay.” Peter seems satisfied with that, so he nods and carries on following Tony to the offices. 

***

Tony’s office isn't huge; he explains that Pepper has the biggest office since she’s CEO and he took a smaller one, which he only uses for meeting business partners and the like. There’s a sofa with two small armchairs at one of the room; Tony sits Peter down on the couch with a glass of water in front of him. Peter is pale, and his face looks pinched and worried, but Tony sits down next to him; the boy seems to calm with Tony’s presence. Tony reaches behind him and pulls the cushion out from beneath his back; he offers it to Peter, the kid takes it and holds it to his chest with both arms cross in front of him.

“We got to where your aunt and uncle were being kept last night, that’s why you had to go to Ned’s again, cause there wasn’t going to be anyone to take care of you,” Tony explains, Peter’s nodding. “We had to fight some pretty bad people to get to them, do you remember what I told you about them?” Peter nods again; his hand is shaking where it clutches the cushion. “Good. And you remember that I told you it would be tough for us to get to them?” Peter lets out a little sob, his eyes filling with tears, but he nods again. “Okay, Peter, I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to tell that this is going to be very sad.” Tony takes a deep breath, “we did everything we could but, we weren’t able to get to your aunt and uncle in time to save them, they both died before we could get to them.” Peter shakes his head, his hair flopping in front of his eyes, tears are running freely down his cheeks. 

“It’s all my fault,” he croaks out, “I didn't get to you in time, if I had gotten to you earlier then they wouldn't have died.” 

“It is very much not your fault, not even a little bit,” Tony says, “it’s normal to feel this way but, trust me, Peter, you did so good getting to me and none of what happened is because of you. Do you want to know more, we can ask Doctor Banner to talk to you if you want to know more?”

“No, no, I don’t wanna,” Peter shakes his head, he looks completely lost, “what’s going to happen to me now?”

“I don’t know for certain, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Tony grimaces, “but, I’m going to always be here for you now. Steve’s gonna be here too, and the rest of the team. We’re family, and family sticks together, so you got all of us with you.” Peter doesn't stop crying; he’s shaking his head still. “You’re not always going to feel sad, Peter, it’s going to get better. We’re always going to be here to help you with whatever you need.” Peter all but throws himself at Tony, who freezes for second before pulling the boy to him. “I got you, I got you, Pete.” He looks up at Steve and manages a small smile before burying his face in Peter’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments keep me writing so please, do that, I need validation. Aha. 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @: wxntxr-sxldxxr !


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for nightmares in this one, and talking about the death of parents and relatives and such.

The first time Bucky sees Peter is when he hears the screaming, he recognises the sound from the countless times he’s heard it coming from his own mouth. It wakes him up, his ears are still sensitive, and he still sleeps lightly. The noise doesn't sound like Stark, or Steve, it sounds like it’s coming from the guest room in their shared suite. As far as he knows the room isn’t supposed to be occupied; Colonel Rhodes is somewhere in Europe, and Sam has moved out to his own apartment in the tower. His ears quickly pinpoint where the sound is coming from, and it is definitely the guest room. Getting out of bed is simple, despite the fact his room is a mess of discarded clothes and various bits of weaponry, but his eyes are well adjusted to the dark, so it is easy for him to find his way to the door. 

There is a child sitting bolt upright in bed in the guest room, tears and snot dripping down his chin. Bucky can see even in the low light that the kid looks just like Tony; this child must be the reason for the Avengers’ latest impromptu trip to Düsseldorf, the one he’d been prevented from going on. This must have been the kid that Pepper had ushered out from the main tower before Bucky had had the chance to see him. Stark is already in the room, pulling the kid into his arms, making soft hushing noises. 

“Stark,” Bucky starts, “what the fu-“

“Barnes, if you complete that sentence,” Tony stops himself from saying something that would have been equally rude. “Not in front of Peter.”

“So,” Bucky rocks back and forth on his feet, he thinks for a moment, Peter hasn't stopped crying, but his eyes also haven’t moved from Bucky’s arm. “Hey, Peter,” He says, “I’m Bucky-“

“You’re Captain America’s best friend,” Peter nods, “I like the comics, you’re the coolest!” He gives Bucky a small smile. “Ned showed me them; I like your arm.”

Bucky smiles back and walks forward; he knows that Steve is standing in the doorway, he can hear his breathing. He knows the man behind him so well, to know that Steve is watching him very carefully, it hasn’t been too long since Bucky threw the Winter Soldier off. “That’s right; me ’n’ Stevie have been best friends for a long time. Is Ned your best friend, then?” Bucky asks, noticing that the sniffling has stopped, though the tears keep falling. 

“Ye-yeah,” Peter’s voice breaks a bit; it just about rips Bucky’s heart out. But the kid is still gazing up at Bucky with nothing short of wonder in his eyes and Tony is also looking at Bucky like he’s a godsend, and who is Bucky to deny two sets of beautiful brown eyes. 

“He sounds, like a good friend, with good taste in comics.” Bucky nods seriously, “you know, I used ta show Stevie loads of the best comics too.” Bucky perches on the bed, smiling when he sees Peter’s face lose some of the sadness. “We used t’ save for weeks to get them, then we’d read ‘em in bed, where it was warm.” He can practically feel Steve’s smile from where he sits; he looks up to see it, it blinds him. “Remember, Steve?” 

“I do,” Steve nods, “Bucky was always the one who knew more about comics than me, he always found the best ones. It's very important to have friends like that.” 

“Hey, you said you liked my arm, right?” Bucky glances back at Peter, who is safely cuddled up in Stark’s arms; Peter nods. “Maybe, in the morning you can watch Tony do some upgrades on it if you want?” Peter whips round to look at Tony with pleading eyes. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it, is there?” Tony asks, worry in his eyes. It touches Bucky that Tony is concerned about him; there’s nothing wrong with the arm, it’s functioning better than ever, but Peter needed a distraction. 

“Feels a little stiff, Stark,” Bucky teases lightly, “maybe your engineering ain’t as good as you think it is.” This brings out a slightly offended noise from Tony and a small squeak from Peter. “I think you need to let Peter take a look at it. I think he could do a bang-up job of it.” Bucky grins a little when Peter laughs. 

“I’d love to see what it looks like on the inside,” Peter mumbles, yawning a little, “I bet you’ve replicated nerves as well since it seems to have sensation capability.” Tony’s mouth just about falls open before it stretches into a huge grin. 

“That’s right,” he says, collecting himself before he launches into a massive explanation of the intricacies that went into Bucky’s arm. “That is also a conversation for the morning; I think we should let Bucky and Steve get back to bed, yeah?”

Peter shrugs but he’s smiling, looking up at Bucky like he hung the stars, “yeah, I’m tired,” he yawns and shifts about a bit. 

“You gonna be okay, kiddo?” Tony asks. “Do you need to talk about what happened more?” Tony pats Peter’s head as the boy leans back in bed, snuggling against the pillows. 

“I think I’m okay,” Peter mumbles, Bucky gets up and starts walking towards Steve, “Bucky?” He hears his name and stops looking back at Peter; he raises an eyebrow in question. “Can you maybe come see my friend, Ned, sometime? You’re his favourite, and I think he’d die if he got to meet you.” Tony looks slightly offended, but he has this fond look in his eye as Bucky glances towards him. “Doesn’t have to be tomorrow or anything, just some time.” Peter looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open. 

“Sure, he sounds pretty cool,” Bucky smiles, “I’ll have to see what Doc Banner says about me going outside the tower, but as soon as I can I’d like to meet ‘im.” 

“Okay, kid, that’s more than enough excitement for one night,” Tony says, getting off Peter’s bed slowly. “Time to go back to sleep. Don’t worry about waking me up or anything if you need me; JARVIS will always be able to help if you can’t find me.” Tony looks down at Peter before he pulls the covers up over the kid’s shoulders. 

Steve and Bucky are standing in the doorway, waiting for Tony before they leave. Tony walks towards them; his face has lost the stressed pinched look that it had worn when Bucky had first entered the room. He smiles tiredly at them before nodding his head in the direction of the living room, one eyebrow raised in question. Bucky looks at Steve, a conversation happening between all three of them, completely silently. Steve shrugs and heads on over to the large communal living area; it’s set out over multiple floors, each with various doors and halls leading off it. In the very centre of it all is a platform with sofas and cosy armchairs. Bucky immediately falls into the high-backed, deep winged armchair; Steve collapses on one of the couches, he doesn't try and contain his surprise when Tony sits on the same one, resting his feet in Steve’s lap. Bucky grins and winks at Steve who blushes deeply from ear to ear, rolling his eyes at Bucky. 

“Hey, Barnes, do you wanna go make yourself useful and get us some cocoa, or something?” Tony mumbles burying his face in the cushion next to him. 

“Of course, your highness, would you like cream and marshmallows too?” Bucky stands, bowing at Tony, who grins and nods at him. “What ‘bout you, Stevie? You want cocoa?” Steve smiles, the blush still hasn't faded from his cheeks; Bucky falls in love with him a little more, though the look he gives his friend gives nothing away. “I’ll make it like I used to, yeah?”

“With a little bit of cinnamon and marshmallows, in the pan on the stove?” Steve murmurs his eyes going slightly glassy and unfocused at the memory. “You used to spend ages trying to make it over the shitty little stove in our apartment.” 

“It would never be quite warm enough, ‘specially when the weather got worse,” Bucky nods as he walks out the room. 

Tony shifts as Bucky leaves, moving so that his head is in Steve’s lap. Steve looks down at him; Tony is so far gone, Steve knows that if Tony weren't exhausted, he wouldn't have his head in Steve’s lap. It is not something Steve has never seen before when Tony is tired he tends to use the nearest person to him as a pillow, but it’s never been Steve before, always Bruce, or Natasha, even Clint sometimes, never Steve. He doesn't quite know how to react, Bruce usually just sits there; Tasha pets Tony’s hair, and Clint draws funny things on Tony’s face. Steve opts for Bruce’s approach, keeping still, letting Tony do whatever he needed to do. That works for a while before Tony grabs Steve’s hand and puts it in his hair. 

“Tony,” Steve croaks, desperately. He’s panicking a little, his mind whirring at a hundred miles a minute. 

“Please,” Steve has never heard Tony sound so desperate, and he looks down to see tears leaking out Tony’s eyes. “Just, you know, it’s been a long couple days. So please,” Tony doesn't even put what he needs in words, Steve finds that he doesn't need him to; he knows what Tony wants. He keeps his hand in the other man’s hair, weaving the soft strands around his fingers, scratching lightly at Tony’s scalp. 

“He’s like some sorta cat, ain’t he?” Bucky comes back into the room, three mugs of cocoa balanced perfectly on a tray. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he started purring.” To Tony’s credit he does nothing but sits up with a slight glare at Bucky, but he takes the mug with a thanks before moving so he can lean into Steve. 

“Holy fuck,” Tony moans, the sound sounding sinful as it passes Tony’s lips. “This, this is good shit, Barnes. Why’ve you been holding out on me for so long? If I knew you could make cocoa like this, you’d have been on cocoa duty a hell of a lot earlier.” 

“You never asked, Stark,” Bucky smiles ruefully, “don’t think I’d’ve remembered if you’d asked me a couple’a months ago anyways.” He shrugs, “the recipe only came back to me tonight.”

Tony’s gaze is sharp, calculating as he looks at Bucky, “what do you mean?” he asks, brown eyes focussed intently. 

“Sometimes, things that happen to me trigger memories,” Bucky explains, ignoring Tony’s impatient huff and hand gesture. “Tonight, watchin’ you comfort Peter, it reminded me of when Steve’s mom-“

“You stayed up with me all night,” Steve murmured, “even when I got snot all over your favourite jumper, you weren’t angry. You just laughed and made us cocoa; we watched the sun come up from the roof of your apartment building.” 

There’s quiet in the room as each of them just sit and absorb the words, Steve and Bucky remembering events that brought them to that moment. Tony’s eyes are far away, he’s preoccupied with something else like Bucky and Steve had triggered some forgotten memory. Steve can see a single tear running down the side of Tony’s cheek; he stops himself from wiping it away by gripping is mug tighter than before. Tony doesn't seem to notice he’s crying until tears are making a steady stream down his face. 

“You know,” he says quietly, words barely above a whisper, “I never cried over my parents before. When it happened, I think I was too in shock to do much, you know? Then I figured I was better off without them, well, without Dad anyway; so I just kind of dealt with it, I signed off the company to Obadiah and moved on. I just, didn't think about it, and then I was too busy with SI, and the Avengers, and you know the world ending. This is the first time I’ve properly thought about it,” Tony’s voice is soft and full of barely disguised pain. “My Dad, he’d have given Peter a drink and told him to get over it. He was an asshole, but he was still my Dad. I think a part of him loved me in some twisted way.” 

Steve and Bucky don’t say anything; Tony has been so closed off to all of them, never saying anything to anyone about his past. They don’t want to break the spell that has made Tony talk; Tony’s hand is shaking where it holds the mug full of cocoa, some of the cream has started to drip over the sides. Tony shuffles a little, so he’s properly leaning into Steve’s side, he draws his feet up to his chest; Bucky can’t help but stare, he’s never seen Tony look so small and helpless. Despite their height difference, Tony has always seemed five inches taller than he is just by virtue of the space his personality takes up. At this moment though, he looks almost childlike; like Steve did before the serum, before the war, before the ice. He can’t help but want to protect Tony from the pain inside, and judging by the way Steve is staring at him; his best friend seems to feel the same way. Bucky gets up from his armchair and sits on Tony’s other side, placing a careful hand on his ankle; Tony looks up with a vague smile on his face. 

“I missed mom though; she never did anything like what my dad did.” Tony says, “she would always pick me up after a bad encounter with Howard.” Tony sighs he’s still crying. “I guess seeing Peter in there reminded me of what I never had. It was horrible because he had it, with May and Ben, and now he doesn't and all he’s left with it me. A father, he never knew, with some pretty serious daddy issues himself. What kind of life can I give him?”

“You can only try your best, Tony,” Steve sighs, “it’s going to be hard, but you’re the only relative he has left, and you might have only met him a couple of days ago, but he clearly likes you well enough. You’re a family now, like it or not.” 

“What kind of family am I, though?” Tony stops crying; the tears are drying up leaving streaks of salt water that shine in the low light of the room. He sounds more broken than Bucky has ever seen a person be. 

“Well,” Steve turns Tony’s face around to look at him, “there are two ex-assassins, both of them ex-spies, one archer, one guy with mechanical wings, one of the world’s best scientists, a god, a girl who is unlike any I’ve ever met before, not to mention a guy who can talk to ants sometimes drops in. Also, there’s me, nearly ninety-five years old World War Two hero; then there’s you, Tony Stark. What was is? Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? I don’t think those are the only things about you. Yeah, we’re a weird family, but you can bet that Peter is going to grow up knowing he’s loved.” 

“If I even get custody of him,” Tony mutters, “I talked to Pepper, she said it’ll be a fight, too much of my backstory in the press, too many failings. Too reckless, too distracted.”

“You’re his father, nothing will ever change that, not now he knows,” Steve shakes his head.

“Steve,” Tony starts, “I’d forgotten his mother’s name. I can’t even remember the year that I- that Peter was conceived, I don’t know what I was doing, where we were. If I were a judge, I’d never put me in charge of a kid.” He turns away from Steve, burying his face back into hands. 

“You’re not that you anymore.” Steve is shaking his head again, Bucky feels like he’s intruding on a private conversation, but he doesn't want to leave Tony, he doesn’t want to leave either of them. “Sure, you might have been that person once, but you ain’t him anymore,” Bucky smiles as Steve’s Brooklyn accent slips out as it always does when he gets frustrated. “Who is the one that makes sure Wanda gets out of her room to eat? Who is the one that can get Bruce to calm down the fastest? Cause it sure as hell ain’t me. Who was the one that sat up with Bucky that first night he was in the tower? Who was the one that kept me sane when I was out of commission for a month? Who is the one that keeps makes sure every new member of the team never feels left out? Who gave over his goddamn tower for us? Who makes sure there’s always food? You, Tony, not me, not Fury or Phil, you. That doesn’t sound like someone who would make a bad father to me.” 

“I can’t replace, May and Ben though, they will always have been better-“ Tony stops when Steve turns him around, manhandling him so that his back is to Bucky. Tony shuffles backwards into Bucky’s chest; he silently curls an arm around Tony’s shoulders. 

“You don’t have to replace them, Tony, you just have to be there for Peter. He’s always going to miss them, of course, he is, and you’re not ever going to replace them. That’s something you really need to come to terms with. But what you are going to do is you are going to be a father to Peter, you’re going to make him better when he’s sick, you’re going to help him with his science fair projects, you’re going to help him through breakups with friends and partners, you’re going to take embarrassing photos of him before his prom. You’re going to cook him dinner and take him to the movies, and you are always going to be there for him.” Steve smiles, “you don’t need to replace May and Ben, you just need to be you, and that’s it.” Steve looks up at Bucky, blue eyes wide, the light shining in them; Bucky nods, and smiles at Tony. 

They’re still sitting in the same positions on the couch an hour and a half later, Tony leaning into Bucky’s chest, his breathing is slow, and he’s not shifting around like he usually does. Bucky smiles, Tony’s half asleep, if not entirely and utterly dead to the world; as far as Bucky is concerned, he could stay like that until morning. Steve is looking at them from eyes that seem to be shutting on their own accord; he has Tony’s feet in his lap, one arm resting on Tony’s legs. Bucky knows that if they all fall asleep there, not only are questions going to be asked in the morning, but they’ll all wake up with horrible aches and pains. He doesn't want to make them all move, he’s enjoying the warmth and quiet contentment in the room far too much for that, but he knows that they need to go back to bed. 

“Tony,” Bucky says, prodding him lightly on the shoulder. “Tony, you need to go back to bed, you’re gonna get a crick in your neck, man.” But Tony has fallen asleep, he huffs and leans further back into Bucky. “Fine,” Bucky sighs, leaning over the sofa to prod Steve. “Hey, Stevie, we need to go to bed,” Steve seems to be asleep too, Bucky knows that he’s not been getting the best nights sleep for the last few months. It had started in September when the weather turned cold, now the weather is warmer, he had hoped that it would be easier for Steve to sleep properly, but he knows that Steve just hasn't fallen into a good sleep pattern yet. He’s half tempted to leave them like they are, give something for Clint to laugh at in the morning, but a slight wave guilt rises through him. “Fine,” he says again, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m a super soldier, how heavy can you lumps be?” He wriggles out from Tony, lying him gently on the sofa, before pulling Steve into his arms. 

The movement is familiar and alien all at once; he’s carried Steve a hundred times before; but not after he’d been defrosted. He hasn't really touched Steve at all since leaving Wakanda, and he can’t help but miss the natural touches they had shared during and before the war. Bucky shifts so that he’s carrying Steve bridal style, it’s a strain this way, but a fireman’s lift would wake Steve up. Steve’s room isn’t far away, and the metal arm was designed to take a lot of weight, he knows Stark made it so that Bucky could lift buildings with it; it’s his human arm which complains because of the weight. 

“Come on, ya great lump,” Bucky groans, but the noise cuts short as Steve buries his face into Bucky’s chest. “It should be illegal; you should be illegal.” He whispers, Steve, all 6’4” of him is adorable. Bucky tramps down on his feelings quickly, the modern day might be okay with how he feels about Steve, but he hasn't quite come to terms properly with it yet; his brain files the information away for a later day. He deposits Steve gently down on his bed, not bothering with the duvet, he pulls the soft blue blanket over his friend’s sleeping body. “G’night Stevie. JARVIS, you can cut the lights.” 

“Certainly, Mr Barnes,” Tony’s AI said, another thing that Bucky wasn't entirely comfortable with. 

“Hey, do you think you could call me James?” He asks, softly, once he’s out of Steve’s room, “Mr Barnes was my da’s name.” 

“I will enter that into my protocols,” JARVIS acknowledges, “it seems that Sir is starting to stir, his heart rate is elevated.”

“What d’ya mean?” Bucky asks, looking up at the ceiling the way he’d seen Tony do a thousand times. “What does that mean, JARVIS?” 

“Sir suffers from night terrors, almost every night, a warning sign that they are about to begin is an elevated heart rate. You are the only Avenger awake, I thought it prudent to warn you,” JARVIS sounds like he’s almost pleading with Bucky to do something, “it would be best if Sir had some company, James.” 

“Night terrors? From New York, right, the portal?” Bucky’s moving quickly towards the living room; he doesn't even think about it before he’s running silently down the hallway. 

“Yes,” JARVIS confirms, “Sir’s breathing is at two times the normal speed.” 

“Shit,” Bucky swears, he’s just outside Peter’s room now, almost at the living room. “Hold on for a second, Stark.” He runs into the living just as the yelling starts, Tony’s face is dripping with sweat, he’s crying out for Pepper, Steve, Rhodey. His hands are fisting the seat covers on the couch, and he’s thrashing so much its a wonder he’s not fallen off yet. “Oh no you don’t,” Bucky catches Tony in his arms. “Hush, now, Stark. C’mon you’re safe, I gotcha, you’re safe here.” He’s muttering in Tony’s ear, hoping that he can hear him. It takes about a minute for Tony to calm down enough that Bucky’s pretty sure the nightmare is over. 

“Thank you, James,” JARVIS’s voice echoes through the room, even though he’s speaking softly. “Sir’s heart rate and breathing are both back within normal parameters. His brain function is calming significantly.” 

“How often does this happen, JARVIS?” Bucky asks, he doesn't dare move Stark just yet, keeping the other man close to his chest. 

“Nightly,” JARVIS answers, “Sir has asked me to wake him when his heart rate elevates during sleep. However, it is better if he is not woken. Sir often does not return to sleep after experiencing a nightmare.” 

“Shit,” Bucky says, looking down at Tony’s relaxed face, his hair is sticking to his forehead both damp with sweat; but there’s no panic etched into his features, he looks peaceful. Bucky really doesn't want to move him, but he also knows that Tony really shouldn't spend a night on the sofa. “Come on; Stark lets get you to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upload schedule? I don't know her?
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos so far, it really means a lot! Maybe consider leaving a comment? Tell me what your favourite part of the chapter was or something idk lmao!! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Yell at me on my marvel tumblr - @wxntxr-sxldxxr!


	4. Chapter 4

It takes three long months, but Tony Stark is about to walk out of court the sole guardian and custodian parent of Peter Parker. All it is going to take is his signature on Peter’s birth certificate and a signed acknowledgement of paternity which he’s just about to hand over to the judge. His hand isn't shaking as he touches it to the paper. A couple of strokes of black ink and Peter is his; officially, Peter is his son. His son, who is turning thirteen today. 

Tony runs out of the court, colliding with Steve, as he sprints; he grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls him through the building. They run out into the back car park and dive into Tony’s car. Tony sits behind the steering wheel for a full ten seconds, before he bursts into incredulous laughter. He officially has a son, a child who is his to nurture, to guide for as long as he needs. Steve watches him as he laughs, Tony looks at him. The sun streams into the carpark, gold rays catching Steve’s hair, shining into his eyes, turning them to the colour of tropical seas. Tension fills the car for a minute building in the small space like a summer storm. Tony cannot bring himself to look away. He’s always been a sucker for beautiful things. Steve is a beautiful man. There’s no denying the high cheekbones, well-sculpted jawline, leading into a long neck and broad shoulders; Tony knows that Steve is beautiful. He is no stranger to the spark of desire that’s pooling somewhere deep in his gut; he’s also no stranger to the destruction and eventual misery that spark can lead to. Without thinking they have drawn closer to each other, he can feel Steve’s breath on his face. 

“We should get back,” he breathes, but he doesn’t move, “Peter, I need to talk to Peter, I promised to take him to Coney Island.” 

“Yeah,” Steve nods. 

The remote alarm that’s always attached to each Avenger goes off at that moment; they look at each other once more before they pull away. Tony activates the bracelets even as he’s stepping out the car, the Iron Man suit covering him quickly, moving over his body like liquid. It only takes Steve a moment longer to suit up, before he’s joining Tony in the car park. 

“Really, on my kid’s fucking birthday?” Tony sighs, before offering out an arm to Steve, “that reminds me, Cap, there’s a handhold on the bicep and a foothold on my calf; you can clip yourself in as well if you want but the signal is only coming from Bowery, so it’s not too far.”

“You built hand and footholds into your suit?” Steve asks, his eyes going a little wide as he finds the holds.

“Well, if we’re going to keep doing this as a team, then I need to get with the programme,” Tony mutters, though the suit amplifies it anyway. “Okay, clench up Capsicle.” 

“Right,” Steve laughs, as Tony blasts off, heading towards Bowery. “Okay Avengers, what are we looking at?” 

“Murderous alien lizard things,” came the distinctly unimpressed reply from Clint. “Can’t seem to find a source, am going to need a lift to a higher position. I’d prefer it if the Hulk didn't give me a lift this time, I was picking bits of building out my hair for weeks.”

“Let me drop off Cap then I’ll be right there, Katniss.” Tony snarks as he flies right into the middle of the fighting. Sure enough, there are huge lizards running all over Bowery; they have two foot long teeth lining their faces; they also seem to spit some form of acid. “Really? On my kid’s birthday? Lizards? Fucking really?” 

“Alright,” Steve says as he slams his shield into one of the lizard’s neck, “Iron Man I want you to get Hawkeye to the top of that building over there, Widow stick with me I want to use protocol one eight three nine. Bruce hang back we don’t need the green guy just yet. Thor, you can just do your thing. Flacon, can you assist Iron Man with air support.” He pauses glancing around the streets, the team shifts into action, they might joke about like kids when they can, but when it comes to the wire, Steve can count on them. 

“What about me?” Bucky melts out of the shadows, his new arm has a bright red A on it, but the rest of his uniform is the same as it had been when he’d worked for Hydra. Minus the face mask and racoon make-up. 

“Bucky?” Steve looks at him, they’re still fighting the lizards, but Steve is completely focussed on his best friend. 

“Got cleared this morning,” Bucky shrugs, shooting two lizards at once, one of them without even looking. “Wanted it to be a surprise but you know, I guess these bastards had other ideas.” 

“Um,” Steve’s mind works at three hundred miles a minute, playing out different scenarios at the same time. “Great, you can either assist Hawkeye with the ranged attack or stick down here and deal with the left flank. Don’t push yourself,” he pauses to kick a lizard into Natasha’s blade. “don’t push yourself into something if you’re not ready, we don’t want a Winter Soldier scare.” 

“Think I’ll stick to the ranged attack, if it’s all the same to you,” Bucky nods, but he’s chucking a lizard into the path of Steve’s shield as it returns to him. Bucky picks up the shield and chucks it to Steve with a grin on his face, “hey, Shell-head, feel like makin’ yourself useful and giving me a ride?” He yells, reaching up with his metal arm. “Stevie, wait till ya see this, it’s so cool!” Tony is flying towards them, one hand outstretched, there’s a buzz of metal, and then Bucky is being lifted away with a whoop. 

All in all, Steve really should have seen the big lizard coming; turns out there had been a nest of them under Bowery for ages. The babies, they’d dealt with, now the mom is pissed. And Steve just happens to be in the path of her destruction. He looks up as she crouches on to her six limbs, black eyes glinting into the sun, her teeth are covered in venom and spittle; her forked tongue lolls to one side. She’s nearly the size of a building, and she’s looking right at him; Steve knows that he should call for backup, maybe for Doctor Strange to conjure a portal into space. He doesn't though, he squares up to the giant lizard, turning on the ball of his foot to face her. His heart is hammering in his chest; his body is flooding with adrenaline as she starts running towards him. Her tail swings through the street, throwing cars and smashing windows. At the last second Steve jumps, he hadn’t been listening to the noise the lizard had made as she thundered down the street, he’d been listening for the familiar sound of Tony’s suit. He is pulled out of the way at the last second, watching as the lizard impales herself onto Natasha’s blade, spilling green blood all over her. 

“Gross,” Natasha shudders as she pulls the blade out of the lizard’s head, “why do I always have to be the one who-“   
Steve can't hear the rest of that sentence because he’s being flown higher and higher into the air, Tony doesn't set them down until they get back to the tower. He’s deposited on the balcony of Stark Tower, as Tony’s bots pull the suit off him. There’s something in his face, Steve notices, a glint in his eye that isn't post-battle relief; it looks like anger. Tony’s dark hair is soaked with sweat, there’s a small cut on his cheek, and another on his arm. Steve knows he probably looks worse; Tony has the suit to protect him from most of the damage; there’s acid dripping down Steve’s thigh that has already worked its way through his suit. He can feel it burning, but he doesn't move from under Tony’s gaze. 

“How dare you,” Tony nearly shouts, “you threw yourself into that with no warning, no plan, and you call me reckless. You could have been killed, would have been if we aren’t all freakishly in tune with each other. This was too much, too much risk-taking; I was only there in time because Barnes yelled for me.” He pushes Steve into the window; they haven't even made it into the tower. “You’re supposed to be the leader of this team, do you have any idea what I would- what they would do if you died?” Steve shakes his head; he’s in shock, the way Tony is speaking to him is something he’s not heard before. “We’d crumble,” Tony rests his head on Steve’s chest. “I’d crumble.” 

Steve is still, his hand's rest by his sides, swinging there uselessly; he doesn’t know what to do. It takes him a minute before he realises that Tony’s finished. With his hand trembling he reaches down and lifts Tony’s chin so that he’s looking and him in the eyes. He moves the hand that under Tony’s chin so that it cups his jaw, Steve strokes his thumb across Tony’s cheekbone. Tony is entirely too aware of Steve’s leg that is slowly but surely making its way between his own.

“Tony, I-“ He’s interrupted though by a cry. 

“Tony!” Peter is pelting out of the living room, on to the balcony, throwing himself at Tony and wrapping his arms around him. “I heard the alarm, so I turned on the TV; those lizard things were awesome! But I couldn’t see you; the camera people were too busy focusing on the lizards, not the people fighting them. I thought you were dead because I couldn’t see you; it was terrifying, but then I saw you lift Steve up away from the monster! That was pretty cool by the way,” he pauses for breath looking up at Steve, who has moved so that he’s not in the way of Tony and Peter. Steve nods at Peter, smiling a little. “I thought you weren't gonna come home,” Peter says it directly into the Iron Man suit, and it’s only because of Steve’s enhanced hearing that he catches it. 

From where he’s standing he can hear the breath in Tony’s throat catch in horror; they all know how traumatised Peter is, two sets of parental figures dying in his short life has left the kid a wreck. Tony is doing all he can; he and Peter talk over shared dinner every day, it’s more talking than Tony has ever done. He also has spoken to Peter about therapy; they’ve been looking for the right person for the last few weeks. 

“Peter,” Tony retracts the hand of his suit and buries it into Peter’s hair. He takes a breath, thinking about what to say. “Pete, I’m sorry you felt that way, buddy. I will do everything in my power to make it home every time.” He picks Peter up, and spins him in a circle, setting him down watching him run back inside; he turns to Steve with a small smile on his face and a quirk to his eyebrow that tells Steve they are going to continue whatever it was they’d been doing. “Steve, are you coming? Gotta make sure my boy has the whole family for lunch on his special day, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll comm the others, make sure they’re okay,” Steve nods, a flush rising and spreading across his cheeks. Tony actually winks at him before he ducks inside, laughing at the silly little dance Peter is doing on the coffee table. 

It’s not until later, once they’re all sitting at the table in the kitchen that Steve is hit by the freight trains that are his feeling for Tony. Bucky notices him tense; their legs are pressed together under the table; he turns to Steve with a questioning eye. Steve just shakes his head, and turns to laugh at something Natasha said; Bucky grabs his wrist under the table and tugs three times. 

“We’re just gonna go grab something,” Bucky grins and ruffles Peter’s hair on his way past. “No peaking kid. We’ve tried real hard to keep this secret, don’t you go ruinin’ it at the last second, you little rapscallion.” 

“Who even says rapscallion, anymore?” Peter mumbles, Tony high-fives him with a proud smile plastered across his face. 

“That’s my boy,” Tony says proudly, smirking up at Bucky, “wrecked by a thirteen-year-old, new lows Barnes, new lows.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment; Bucky says nothing, choosing instead to saunter out the room with Steve hot on his heels. 

“So,” Bucky begins as they make their way through to the bedrooms where they’ve been hiding Peter’s present. “You wanna tell me why you can’t keep your eyes off Stark? I mean, more than normal.” There’s humour in the words; Steve can pick it out amongst the question, Bucky’s wearing one of his wry smiles. “Stevie, don’t lie, you can’t keep nothin’ from me.” Bucky says, and Steve knows he’s right. 

“I,” Steve sighs, reaching into the air vent above his bed to retrieve the box, “I just realised, I’m completely gone on ‘im, Buck.” There’s no sense in keeping it bottled up, Steve knows, it would come out eventually. Bucky knows everything about Steve, has done since they were young, Steve remembers the whispered confessions they shared as they curled up together. “Think I’ve felt this way for a while, I’m just so used to burying those feelings deep down, hiding that part of me. It’s still a shock when I walk down the streets and see two fellas holdin’ hands, you know?” Bucky nods, it’s jerky, and his shoulders are tense. “Buck?”

“Yeah, Stevie?” Bucky sighs, taking the box from Steve so he can get down from the bed. 

“What should I do?” Steve asks, looking slightly lost as he clambers down, when he’s on the floor he starts picking at the sleeves of his shirt, a nervous gesture Bucky knows well. His eyes are wide and worried. 

“Tell him, Stevie, you should tell him,” Bucky’s happy for Steve, he really is, but he can’t help feeling like he’s missing out on something. He feels a small part of him shrivel up and die, the part of him that had hoped, in the new century that Steve and he would become something more than best friends. 

“What if I mess things up, Bucky, you don’t know what it was like before; there was hardly a day where we weren’t at each other’s throat over something. It was awful. We barely spoke, unless we were fighting. I don’t want to, you know, creep him out. What if he doesn’t like men?” Steve looks at Bucky, panic visible in his eyes. Bucky softens, he knows that Steve is really freaking out, and no matter how much it hurts him, he won’t let his feelings get in the way. 

“You’re not going to mess things up, and, he’s not straight.” Bucky shrugs, he sees Steve’s raised eyebrow and grins. “No straight man would look at your ass like that.” He says, enjoying the blush that paints itself across Steve’s cheeks and down his neck, disappearing below the collar of his t-shirt. “Come on, the kid’ll be gettin’ impatient, and the others will be wondering where we’ve disappeared to.” 

“You’re right,” Steve nods, following Bucky out the room, “I’m going to tell him tonight. Thanks, Buck, you always know how to make me feel better.” Steve slings his arm around Bucky’s shoulders; Bucky tries to stop himself from falling apart. 

Their gift to Peter, a teddy wearing a small Iron Man helmet is a huge success. Bucky had remembered Peter telling them that he’d lost his childhood teddy when he’d moved all his stuff from his aunt and uncle’s place into the tower. Peter’s eyes go wide as he sees the bear’s ears peaking out from the helmet; he tries to act all grown up as he thanks Steve and Bucky, but they both notice how the bear never leaves Peter’s side. The smile Tony gives them is worth everything, it’s small but full of warmth; he mouths ‘thank you’ at them as Peter sits the bear on his lap. The rest of the team hand over their own presents; Bruce’s is a hand built chemistry set (which clearly states that it is only to be used under his supervision), Natasha’s is a set of vintage Captain America comics, Clint gives Peter a nerf gun (he pulls out one for each of them with a wide grin). Peter thanks all of them profusely, he’s grinning and laughing with frosting from his cake smeared all over his mouth. 

“Right, kiddo, now it’s time for my gift to you,” Tony stands, Peter looks at him, his brows are furrowed; he’s confused. “Come on; you gotta be wondering why you weren’t allowed in your room after you got up this morning.”

“I just thought it was because you didn't want me to hide away in there on my birthday,” Peter shrugs. 

“Nope!” Tony pops the ‘p’; he makes Peter walk in front of him, his hands covering Peter’s eyes. “You alright like that, Pete?” Peter nods and grins, Steve can see him starting to vibrate almost from the excitement. “Okay, come on then.” 

They walk down the corridor towards Peter’s room, Tony keeps his hands over Peter’s eyes, before he stops in front of the door. He tells Peter to keep his eyes shut as he opens the door and leads Peter inside, the rest of the team following behind. Steve lets out an audible gasp, the room has changed from the boring guest room Peter had been living in before; now it is a teenage boy’s paradise. The walls had been an impersonal beige; now they’re a light blue; there’s a mural on the wall with the largest amount of blank space; the whole solar system (and more) covers it, some of the stars even twinkle with a soft yellow light. Half of one of the other walls is a chalkboard, at the moment its covered in the specs for Bucky’s arm and the Iron Man suit. The bed has been replaced with a high sleeper; there's a sofa and a desk under it, the sofa looks like its a fold out one so that Peter can have friends to stay. There’s a worktop which looks like it’s a miniature version of Tony’s lab on one corner; and standing beside it is a smaller version of Dummy, the bot who Peter had fallen in love with the first time he’d sneaked into the workshop. Natasha is looking at Tony with a smile on her face; Steve has never seen her look so soft before.

“This is all for me?” Peter gazes around the room in wonder, “you did this for me?” He looks at Tony, clearly on the verge of tears. 

“Yeah, kid. Couldn’t have you living in the old room if you’re going to be here forever,” Tony finds his arms full of a sobbing thirteen-year-old boy. “You alright, Pete? You need some time? Actually, it’s nearly midnight; you should be getting to bed, are you tired?” Peter shakes his head, but he’s yawning, Tony smiles. “If you go to bed now, you can have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.” That sentence gets the desired reaction; Tony shoos the team out of the room as Peter scrambles for his pyjamas. 

As the others slowly start to filter back into the living room, Steve grabs Tony’s wrist. Tony looks at him with a slightly shocked expression, but he leans into Steve’s touch. He gives Tony a few seconds to pull away; he keeps his grip on Tony’s wrist light, so he doesn't feel trapped. Tony doesn't pull away. Instead, he raises his eyebrow at Steve and nods his head in the direction of Steve’s room. 

The only light in the room is Steve’s small bedside lamp; it gives out a soft orangey glow; Steve can’t take his eyes off Tony, his tan skin and soft brown eyes, he perfect hair and the blue glow of the arc reactor. Steve doesn't think that he’ll ever see anything more beautiful than the man in front of him. Tony steps into Steve’s space, he places his one of his hands on the back of Steve’s neck and trails the other down Steve’s face, leaving burning skin in its wake. Tony smirks when he hears Steve’s breathing hitch, but there’s no venom or negative emotion behind the smirk, Tony looks very much like the cat that got the cream. Steve isn't quite sure what to do with himself, he’s forgotten how to speak since they went into his room, all he does is draw Tony close to him. His hands finally work out what to do, and he cups Tony’s face. 

“Tony I,” his voice comes out hoarse and croaky, it’s deep like he hasn’t spoken in weeks, “Tony, can I- Can I kiss you?” Tony lets out a huff of laughter, but he brings Steve’s face down to his, the hand that had been tracing Steve’s cheek is now fisted in the front of his shirt. Steve forgets how to think as their lips touch, the only thing that exists is Tony, the only thing he can feel is Tony. They stand there in Steve’s room, kissing for what feels like hours until Steve’s lungs are burning from lack of oxygen. 

“Is now a good time to tell you that I think, I’d quite like to take you on a date?” Steve mumbles as he rests his forehead against Tony’s. 

“Now is a very good time to tell me that,” Tony laughs, stealing another kiss; Steve mentally amends his earlier thoughts. This is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, Tony’s lips are red, his hair is mussed from where Steve’s hands have ended up in it, and there’s a slight flush spreading across his cheeks.

“Is tomorrow at eight good?” he asks, somehow, despite the kissing, he still feels nervous asking Tony on a date. 

“Tomorrow, at eight is perfect,” Tony says, pulling him in, for another kiss; as though any moment where their mouths are not touching is a moment of their lives wasted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: someone gets hurt, quite badly, there's not hugely graphic wound description but it's pretty bad. 
> 
> and there's also kidnapping etc.

Everyone has long since accepted that nothing can be a secret for very long in the tower, living with three super spies it is hardly surprising that it only takes a day and a half for everyone to know about Tony and Steve. They don’t make it a secret, though nothing really changes, apart from the casual touches holding more weight than they used to. Bucky tries to be okay with it; he really does, he’s smiling and joking around them just as much as he used to do; he also goes down to the workshop and hangs out with Peter like normal. So he’s surprised when Natasha drops into his room (literally, she’s taking a leaf out of Clint’s book and coming out of an air vent) at midnight.

“Наташа,” he slips into Russian easily, knowing that it’s the only language no one but them speaks in the tower. It had surprised him when he’d been talking to Natasha in French, only for Tony to answer with easy fluency. “What can I do for you? Have you been up there all day? That can’t be good for your back.” Bucky is curled on his bed, a book propped up by a spare pillow beside him; he has a mug of cocoa on the table next to him.

“I wanted to talk to you, котенок,” Natasha gives him an easy smile, dropping into the armchair he salvaged from a purge of living room furniture Tony had a week ago. “I see the way you look at them; I know that look.”

Bucky raises his eyebrow, willing himself to hide his feelings deep down, “and what way would that be?” He laughs, trying to play it off for cool and collected, but it comes out as nervous and unsure instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“In that case, I’ll just leave and take this vodka with me. You know I was totally up for a meeting of the ‘I hate men club’ but,” she sighs and rolls her eyes, before heading for the air vent. “I guess you’re totally fine, Barnes, that’s why you’re curled up here like an eighty-four-year-old woman while Stark and Rogers are having a cosy little board game night in the communal room.”

“‘M not curled up like an eighty-four-year-old woman. I just like books and cocoa is that so hard to believe.” Bucky mumbles, as Natasha shrugs her shoulders and leaps up to the air vent. “Wait.” Natasha aborts the jump easily and turns to him. “I think,” Bucky takes a breath. “I think I’ll take some of that vodka actually.” His voice is croaky and full of emotions, Natasha shoots him a sympathetic look before she tosses the bottle of vodka at him and curls up on the bed next to him. “I’m happy for them, you know, they’ve been through so much. They went through me being brought back, mess that I am, they’ve gone through Pete, and I’m happy that they get to be happy-“

“But,” Natasha raises her eyebrow, snatching the vodka back after Bucky has his gulp, she gestures with the bottle.

“But, I love ‘im,” Bucky sighs, he feels so empty like he’s lost in the middle of the ocean without a compass to guide him. “I spent so long denying that part of me, the part that-“ he takes another deep breath, holding a pillow to his chest, “the part that was attracted to fellas, you know? I spent so long talking myself into silence about it, maybe I just, left it too long.”

“Oh, Bucky, котенок,” Natasha sighs, if she weren't ever so slightly terrifying all the time, Bucky would have spilt his guts to her earlier, “котенок, if you could see the way he looks at you like you hung the stars and Tony hung the moon. He loves you, котенок, he just doesn’t know it yet.”

“You can’t love two people at once, таша,” Bucky sighs sadly, fiddling with the pillow, rolling the tassels between the fingers of his metal hand.

“Perhaps you’ve not seen it, but it’s possible,” Natasha looked at him sharply. “I’ve seen it, they’re happy. You deserve that happiness, котенок, let yourself be happy. ”

“Clint,” Bucky breathes, his eyes widening; Natasha smiled at him, she didn't say anything else. Instead, she just took a swig from the bottle. “How? How does it even work? I’m not sure I feel like that about Tony, I like him, but…” Bucky trails off, taking the bottle from Natasha.

“You talk it out,” Natasha says it like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “You’ve got to talk and talk, then talk some more. Everyone has to be happy with what’s going on, and that doesn’t just take one conversation, котенок; if you don’t talk it out, then someone’s going to end up getting hurt. But, that’s the same in every relationship.”

“‘M not sure I can handle so much talkin’,” Bucky mumbles, though the vodka has no effect on him he’s starting to feel sleepy like time has slowed and he’s already dreaming.  
***

It takes three months for Peter to get kidnapped, he’s on his way to school when the bus is stopped, and the bad guys call his name. Peter steps forward. From there it takes them a whole week to find him; Bucky is ninety percent sure that Steve and Tony don’t sleep, in fact, the whole team doesn't sleep. Not properly anyway, they all drop off from exhaustion at some point; the entire team is camping in the common room; mattresses, blankets and pillows move in there, migrating from bedrooms. The room is littered with files and paper, all their research on where Peter is, and who took him; there’s a board where bits of red string links different suspects and areas of the world, it’s mainly for Steve’s benefit, holograms never suited him. There’re take-out cartons on every other available surface, various bits of other detritus clutter the space, the team has basically been living in one room since the first few days that Peter was missing. Thor even came back from Asgard to help look; he’d been going back there semi-regularly to visit his family.

“Sir,” JARVIS says at four thirty in the morning, a whole eight days after Peter’s kidnapping, “I have Mister Parker’s location.”

“Where?” Tony’s voice is shaking; he’s on his ninth coffee, the black bags under his eyes look almost purple. The rest of the team, including Thor, have woken up now, all of them blinking sleep out of their eyes; Steve is by Tony’s side in less than a heartbeat, his hand on Tony’s shoulder, thumb rubbing circles into the skin.

“In an abandoned apartment complex in Anchorage,” JARVIS replies. “I have not been able to gauge on Mister Parker’s status, Sir.”

“Just queue up a flight path for the mark IV,” Tony stops himself from shouting, just, he can feel the warmth from Steve’s hand; he leans into it, just barely, an imperceptible amount.

“Avengers, assemble,” Steve says, though he doesn't really need to because everyone is moving in the directions of their uniforms anyway. Even Bucky and Natasha who only just returned from their latest mission three hours ago. “Buck, Nat, you don’t-“

“I am going to stop you right there, before I end up having to kill you,” Natasha deadpans, looking at Steve with something fierce in her eye.

“If you think we’re sittin’ this thing out, Stevie, just cause we’re a little tired and beat up, then you’ve lost your damn mind,” Bucky nods, squeezing Steve’s shoulder with his metal hand, “what did I always say,” he pauses in mock thought, “I’m with ya till the end of the line, pal and this ain’t it.” He’s grinning, the line had become something of a private joke between them, though it was still as soothing as it had always been.

“Alright, bud, but if I catch you slaking I’ll send you to the backline,” Steve looks at Bucky with his Captain America face on, until a wobble at the corner of his mouth breaks into a full-on Steve Rogers smile. He claps Bucky on the shoulder, “really though you get tired or feel anything but one hundred percent, you let me know.” His gaze flicks to Natasha, but she’s already walking out the door, following behind Clint fiddling with her gun.

“I know,” Bucky nods, watching the others leave, so it’s just Steve and him. “I’ve done missions when I’m a little tired before, Stevie.” With this he squeezes Steve’s shoulder again, “we’ll get ‘im back, don’tcha worry.”

“If you two are finished, then go suit up,” Tony’s voice comes from the suit, all cold and impersonal, but the worry and dread that have coloured his words in the last few days are still evident. “I want my son back.”

***

Alaska is as cold and icy as Bucky remembers it from the last time he’d been there. The building is just a little ways out of the centre of Anchorage. Most of its windows have been blown out in some way shape or form, and broken glass litters the forecourt. The corrugated iron door is rusting; there are large holes in it where water has been dripping down and corroding the metal through. Bucky is glad his night vision is almost perfect because Alaska is dark, he’s almost sure that if he looked up at the sky a myriad of stars would be visible. The darkness does mean that the HYDRA agents think they have cover, they don’t. The gun is one of Stark’s best, it handles beautifully, and it built for Bucky himself; it’s so intuitive he barely has to twitch the trigger. He and Clint have taken out about fifteen before the forecourt is cleared enough for the others to go in, Clint hopping down from the roof to follow Natasha. Bucky stays outside, hoping that everyone makes it out alright.

Tony enters the building through the roof, as usual, this time though Rhodey is behind him picking off any agent who thinks that they can sneak up on Iron Man and War Machine. JARVIS is working overtime, Tony’s installed him on everyone's night vision goggles, as their version of the HUD. Tony now has everyone’s status flickering before his eyes; he’s focusing on Steve’s praying that he won’t see the line that’s measuring his heart rate go flat. Three more agents drop in front of him, he’d barely even had to lift the repulser, his suit is hardwired for him, more intuitive and more dangerous than ever. He takes advantage of the empty corridor to pause and get his bearings, Rhodey coming to a stop on his left.

“JARVIS do a scan of this building, find Peter, he’s your top priority; I want you to send whoever’s closest to him there immediately, the rest of the team is to make their way to Peter’s position,” Tony orders, he had become the leader of this operation by some unspoken agreement.

“Also JARVIS, these agents don’t seem like normal HYDRA operatives. I’ve never seen this symbol before,” Steve say his voice slightly crackly through the comms, even though Tony can see his vitals it’s a relief to hear his voice, “can you tell us who’s running this joint?”

“Scan is now twenty-five percent complete, Sir. I am running the symbol through my databases, Captain, I will contact you as soon as I can,” JARVIS replies. “Sir there are five agents coming up the corridor directly in front of you.”

“Right, back to work then,” Rhodey groans aiming the gun on the back of his suit down the corridor in front of them as Tony looks up, one eye on the scan that JARVIS is completing.

“Alright, Sergeant, we need back up on the lower ground floor, can you come in,” Steve sounds a little out of breath, but Tony tunes it out as more agents pour up from the staircase.

“Sure thing, Captain, on my way,” Bucky says, his voice all business; Tony can hear him clipping his gun to the holster on his back as the metal arm whirrs next to the mic on his comms.

“Third floor clear, there’s no one here,” Natasha sounds every bit like she’s just done two gruelling missions within a day of each other. “I am unhurt, Clint has a nasty cut on his forehead but he’s using the nanobot stitches as we speak; are we clear to take another floor?”

“Move up, Widow, and remember during missions its codenames only,” Steve directs, “do you agree, Iron Man?”

“Yeah, move upwards, we’re on the sixth floor so we’ll meet on the fifth. Cap and co’, work down then start moving upwards. We’ll all meet on the second floor.” Tony says, “Sixth floor is about two minutes from clear.”

“Sir, I have completed a scan of the building, using data from the Avenger’s night vision goggles, there is a reinforced room with a significant electromagnetic signature on the lower ground floor; it seems that Sergeant Barnes is the closest to it,” JARVIS says.

“Sergeant,” is all Tony has to say, his voice wavering a little bit; he hopes the team will ascribe the wobble to the comms.

“On it,” Bucky grunts; Tony can hear him tearing agents apart with his arm. Clearing the way through to the room. “I’ve cleared the guard but there’s a keypad, it wants some kind of code. JARVIS do you think you could get me in?”

“Of course, Sergeant,” JARVIS says mildly, “try entering the numbers 1,2,1,6,1,9,9,1.” Tony freezes, he has an agent by the neck, the man is quivering with the flow of air to his brain being restricted.

“Fuck,” Tony says, squeezing just a little tighter, “Bucky, are you okay?” All he gets is a quick grunt of yes in confirmation before he turns his attention to the man in his grasp. “Right, party time is over shithead, who do you work for?” He slams the agent into the closest wall, making sure that the rough concrete shreds the clothes and skin from the man’s back. “Come on, it’s not like they're going to be able to save you, you fucks took my son; if there’s something you should know about me is that I don’t like it when people take my shit. So come on, who do you work for?” Tony holds the man a solid two feet off the ground; there's sweat and blood trickling down the man’s face as he gasps for any air he can take in.

“You can’t stop us,” the words are barely whispered, but Tony hears them all the same, “AIM.” The man breaks one of his teeth and foams at the mouth, the gross liquid runs down Tony’s gauntlet, the guy twitches for a few seconds before he goes limp; Tony drops him to the ground.

“Guys,” he says, his brain not quite computing what he’s just seen, “this isn't HYDRA, this is AIM; fuck, Peter, if they’ve done anything to him, if they’ve hurt a hair on his head I swear I’ll-“

He’s cut off as Bucky’s voice comes through the comms, “I’ve been hit, uh,” there’s a terrible, rattling breath, “it’s not good. Stevie-“ Bucky’s cut off by something, Tony can feel his whole world shrink, he can’t focus on both Bucky and Peter, he’s frozen to the ground; he can hear Rhodey shouting at him, he can feel the other man’s hand on his shoulder.

“Steve,” Tony says, but he knows that Steve is already moving as fast as he can. He can see Bucky’s vitals dropping even as the seconds go by; all he can do is kick through the agents swarming the stairs, trying to get to Bucky as soon as possible.

***

Steve, for not the first time this mission, thanks Tony silently for the night vision he’d installed into Steve’s helmet. He can see the basement perfectly; there’s even a map of it in the top left-hand corner of the goggles; there’s also a tiny red dot that’s flashing rapidly, all Steve needs to do is get there, and he’ll save Bucky. The thought of his best friend dying again is too much; it spikes anger through Steve like he’s felt only one time before. There are still some lingering agents in the basement, and Steve stops trying so hard not to kill them as he works his way through; Wanda is on his tail, but she can’t keep up with him now.

“Talk to me, Buck,” Steve says through the comms, switching to a private channel so as not to distract the team.

“It hurts, like fuck,” Bucky’s voice is weak, but there’s his familiar dry sense of humour bleeding into his words. “Think I got shot by some gun but there ain’t no bullets, not so much blood too, gun must’ve cauterised the wound,” he takes an awful shuddering breath, “it hurts so bad, Stevie, please,” another breath, Bucky’s voice is getting weaker and weaker; Steve can barely hear it, “hurry up.”

“I’m almost there pal; I need ya to stay with me okay?” Steve says, his stomach is sinking, he hopes that the serum HYDRA injected into Bucky is enough to keep him alive.

“Do you remember when you ’n’ Agent Carter was talkin’ like I didn't exist? You saw my face ’n’ thought that I was jealous of you, gettin’ the girl,” Bucky laughs, Steve can see the pub, can hear the conversation taking place like it was yesterday.

“I remember,” he says, nodding even though Bucky can’t see him; he rounds the corner, only a few seconds away from his friend.

“Yeah, well,” Bucky breathes again, the sound is wet and bloody. “I wasn’t jealous of you, Stevie. Do you remember when you ’n’ Tones got together? How I couldn't look at him for weeks even though he was workin’ on the arm?”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupts, “hold on, I’m at your position, but I can’t see you.” He looks around, but the room looks empty apart from the bodies of the guys Bucky had been taking down.

“Go to the little flashing green light,” Bucky gasps for air, “there’s a panel there with a keypad, enter the code, 1,2,1,6,1,9,9,1.”

He does as Bucky says, moving forward and into the secret room on the other side of the panel. Bucky is slumped up against a wall, his hands pressing down onto his stomach; there’s a wound on his leg too. Steve can a small puddle of blood creeping out and away from him, an agent with some sort of gun is lying a few feet from Bucky, apparently dead. Bucky is pale, too pale, but he smiles up at Steve anyway.

“I wasn’t jealous of you, dumbass,” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper now, “probably unfair of me to do this right now but, I’m dyin’ so cut me some slack. I had to tell you that I-”

Steve grips his friend’s hand as he fumbles for the nanobot stuff that Tony gave him before the mission. “You’re not going to die, Buck,” Steve says, his hands are shaking so badly that he’s worried he’s going to set the spray off in the wrong direction and waste it. “That’s an order.” He says in his firmest Captain America voice, smiling when Bucky lifts his hand and salutes him. The nanobot spray is a miracle; Steve notices as he sprays it on to Bucky’s wounds, and watches the skin, muscles and tissues knit together.

“Permission to advance in through the room on my own, Captain?” He hadn't noticed Wanda entering the room, but he looks up an sees her standing there; there’s something soft in her eyes. “I don’t think it would be good to leave Sergeant Barnes on his own at the moment.”

Steve nods, at her. “Be careful, if something doesn’t feel right or you feel like you can’t handle the situation alone call for backup; the other’s are on their way. I want constant updates.” He turns back to Bucky as she disappears from view. “Stay with me Bucky, cause Peter’s going to be pissed if you’re not here when we get ‘im back.” He manoeuvres himself so that Bucky’s head is resting against his chest. “This ain’t the end of the goddamn line, Jerk.”

“I’m still here, Stevie.” Steve can feel Bucky grin, “you’d not last a week without me, Punk.” He’s coughing again, so hard that it’s wracking his whole body, like when Steve had pneumonia. “Fuck.”

Tony and the rest of the team burst into the room. The face place and helmet of the Iron Man suit are nowhere to be seen; Steve has never been so grateful to see Tony’s face. Bruce has been brought in to assist Tony with the medical care Bucky desperately needs. Though he can see that Natasha has a tight grip on Bruce’s hand. Clint and Sam split from the group to follow Wanda as soon as Steve tells them that she went to find Peter alone. Tony grits his teeth, it looks like it’s physically painful for him to not follow them; but when he kneels next to Bucky and looks at his wounds, he’s wholly focussed.

“Are you going to be okay with this, Doc?” Steve asks, looking up at Bruce, who just nod resignedly and kneels next to Tony.

“Cap,” Tony looks up at him, “please, get my son back, we’ve got Bucky, and we’re going to get him out of here, but no one’s found Peter yet.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Mission first,” Steve nods, he knows that this is Tony trying to distract him from Bucky, but he’s grateful for it. He moves to stand, but not before he presses a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “I’ll get your son; you save my friend.”

He moves off without a second word, sprinting after the others, it takes him less than five minutes to catch up with them. It seems like the hidden room is more of a corridor with several different rooms branch off it; the empty rooms are set up in ways that look like they were used as labs. Steve shudders, thinking of Peter being kept down here on his own, in the dark and damp. They move slowly, methodically searching each of the rooms for Tony’s son, but there’s no sign of him, not until they get to the last room. It’s a cell really; there’s a steel door with a tiny food flap and a window cut into it. Peter is crouching in one corner, the rest of the room is empty of everything, there’s not even a bed. The kid looks perfectly healthy and normal, or he would do if the corner he’s crouching in had been on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ain't even sorry. Thank you for all the kudos I am literally in shock at this I don't know how to react but thank you, and for all the kind words as well!!! They keep me so motivated to keep writing this! 
> 
> Don't forget to come yell at me on tumblr @wxntxr-sxldxxr
> 
> Translations for the Russian: 
> 
> Наташа: is just Natasha in Russian. 
> 
> котенок: is Kitten. Yes. Natasha calls Bucky Kitten. Fight me.
> 
> таша: This is just Tasha.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: graphic wound description, mentions of PTSD and a panic attack (that's not in detail and not POV but it's there).

“Um,” Steve says, looking up at Peter through the flap in the steel door, “right. Okay.” He says before ripping the door off its hinges. He realises then that Peter didn't know who was outside the room. Steve works it out as Peter shoots something at him which sticks him to the spot. “Pete! It’s me!” He shouts his hands up, “it’s Steve, we’re here to rescue you.” 

“Shit-“ Peter crawls off the ceiling, dropping down easily, as if he’d been hanging out on ceilings all his life, and lands next to Steve. “Steve! Where’s Tony? Where’s the rest of the team? Oh hi, Clint! Sam!! Wanda, you’re all here! Where’s Bucky? Where’s Natasha? And Thor? Are they okay? Are they hurt, I hope none of you got hurt trying to rescue me.”

“Language,” Steve says as he finds his arms full of a thirteen-year-old boy. “Hey, it’s alright, I got you. Are you hurt?” Steve relaxes as soon as Peter shakes his head, “we’ll talk about the ceiling thing later, okay?” Peter nods. “Right. How do I get out of this, then?” He gestures to the webbing (?) around his feet. 

“Uh,” Peter scratches the back of his head, Steve takes the time to properly look at him. His hair is greasy, and his face has bruises and scratches all over it. “Use a knife?” Peter bites his lip, looking a little guilty. 

“You don’t know do you?” Steve sighs scrubbing a hand through his hair shaking his head, trying to stop himself laughing. 

“Yeah I have no idea,” Peter grins, “um a knife could work, I guess, or I could try and pull it apart. I have no clue what this stuff is to tell ya the truth.” 

Sam steps up with a knife holding it out to Steve who bends and starts picking at the webbing. Peter is sniggering from where he’s moved to stand with Clint, who produces a flashlight from his belt and points it at Peter. A quick field examination is not going to be good enough to figure out what AIM did to him, but it’s enough to point out the obvious. Clint runs his hands over Peter’s wrists feeling the web shooters that are apparently embedded under his skin; there are ugly red, raised scars that run from his wrist joint all the way down to halfway to his elbow. Peter flinches and makes a small sound as Clint touches them, he takes his hand back and continues the examination just by looking. Bruises are littering Peter’s face, his lip is split, a nasty lump of clotted blood sits on it; that must have bee the cause of the lisp Peter has developed. Clint can tell just by the way that Peter is standing that he must have hurt his ankle, probably from landing on the floor awkwardly; that would have to wait, and it seems like Peter can walk fine. All Clint wants to do is get the boy out of there, he knows that he and everyone else in the team would take a bullet for the kid, he rests a cautious hand on Peter’s shoulder, giving him time to pull away from the touch. There’s a tiny sound from Peter’s mouth, and then he’s leaning into the touch, his big brown eyes that are so much like his father’s, widening and misting over. 

“It’s alright, kiddo, we got you now,” Clint murmurs, “Cap, I’m going to get him out of here while you de-web yourself, alright? Sam, you stay with Cap, and Wanda, you’re with me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, make sure he’s safe, get him to Tones; then go and sweep the building with Falcon and Widow. See if you can recover any information about what they did to him, I’m sure Tony will want to know as much as possible. Then, Hawkeye, tell the whole team to get some rest, good food and sleep are what we all need right now. Contact Fury, tell him the team is out of commission until a week from now; tell him that he shouldn't contact us for anything short of the end of the world.” Steve is wearing a tired smile, he’s looking at Peter, “Pete, it’s going to be okay, you’re going to go and see everyone, then you and your Dad are going straight to the doctors; they’re going to help you, then you’re going to get some burgers and go to bed.” 

“Yeah, sure, Steve,” Peter mumbles, the surprise of being rescued and the adrenaline that brought is starting to wear off; Clint knows that if they don’t start moving now, he’s going to end up carrying Peter to the quinjet. 

“Come on, Peter, let's get you back to your dad, yeah?” Clint taps Peter’s shoulder to set him going in the right direction, “keep in touch on the coms, Cap, if there’s any trouble. Tell Tony we’re coming in.” 

Clint fully expects to fight his way out of the facility, but the building is empty as they move through it. The bodies of the agents they fought their way through on the way in still litter the corridors, he tells Peter to look up and straight ahead as they pass them, the kid is too young to see death like this. He ignores the voice in his head that tells him, that when he was Peter’s age, he saw deaths ten times worse than this.

Tony is standing outside the building, he’s taken the suit off; though Clint can still see Bucky’s blood that had wormed its way through the suit, he shudders slightly, hoping no one else notices it. Peter rushes forward when he sees his dad, Tony smiles and hugs him close, until Peter pushes away with a small grumble of ‘not cool Tony’; but Tony knows that Peter really does want a hug, and he draws him in again. He presses a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, and Peter makes no noise of complaint, even though it’s only been a week.

“Steve?” Tony asks, looking up and raising an eyebrow. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Clint nods a small grin on his face, “he’s on his way. He uh, got himself stuck in a bit of a sticky situation; he shouldn’t be too long.”

“A sticky situation?” Tony’s eyebrow works its way further up his forehead, Clint doesn’t know how that’s even possible. “Do I want to know?” 

“Probably not, but you’re going to find out sooner or later,” Wanda says from behind Clint, she’s taking off her uniform, discarding the leather gloves and pulling her hair out of the tight ponytail. Even just by the way she’s standing she is miles apart from the scared teenager Clint took from the HYDRA facility. “You should show him now, Peter, before he gets the medical report.” 

“Yeah,” Clint nods, “this is not something you can hide, Pete,” Clint says as Peter looks to him, he’s tense and obviously scared. “Just do it, he’s going to find out eventually, plus it’s kinda cool what you can do.”

“Right- Okay- Yeah,” Peter stumbles over the words a bit, making Tony’s heart constrict in his chest, he looks so young and scared. 

Peter takes a breath, he pulls away from Tony, moving back a few feet before he jumps and lands on the side of the quinjet. Tony shakes his head, making sure that he isn't hallucinating; that his son is really hanging from the front, the vertical side, of a quinjet. Peter watches his dad carefully before he turns and crawls up the side of the quinjet, Tony can’t stop his mouth from dropping open in shock, his son is crawling up a wall like it is an entirely reasonable thing for a thirteen-year-old boy to do. There is no way for him to react, none of the many parenting books he’s bought has prepared him for his son sticking to walls. 

“Um, so, we’re going to be talking about this when we get back; but before that, I need to know if there’s anything else you can do, Petey,” Tony says, looking up at Peter; if watching his son crawl to the top of the quinjet had shocked him, watching his son shoot webs out of his wrist catapults his brain into chaos mode. “So you’re like a spider-kid now, then?” Tony knows that his immediate ‘turn everything into humour’ setting probably isn't the most helpful thing, but he’s been left a little high and dry here. 

“So you’re not angry with me?” Peter asks from the top of the quinjet.

“I will never be angry with you for something that wasn’t your fault, Peter. You didn’t ask to be kidnapped, alright, you did nothing wrong. Now can you get down here, so we can check you over, please,” Tony gestures down to the ground. He looks at the building watching as Steve comes out of the doorway, a slightly disgruntled Sam in tow. 

“Hey guys, where’s Bucky?” Peter says jumping down from the wing, “Did he not come? Is he okay? What about Natasha, and Bruce, Thor, and Rhodey?” He’s rocking on the balls of his feet, his arms swinging loosely at his sides. 

“Look, Peter,” Tony begins, “Bucky got hit, it’s pretty bad. Bruce is with him. He’s a fighter though, too stubborn to die you know, like a grumpy cat, he’s got a few lives left I think, ‘kay? I sent Rhodey, Tasha, and Thor back into the building to do a more thorough sweep of the top floors, to see if we could get a bit more info as to what was really going on in there.” 

“He’s going to be okay though?” Peter pales, visible even in the dark, Tony can see his face drain of what little colour it had. “He’s not gonna die is he?”

“Bruce thinks he’s going to make it,” Tony is talking partly to Peter, and partly to Steve, whose mouth is set in a grim line. “We stabilised him enough, Thor zipped them back to HQ before I sent him on his little investigation. He’s breathing, and he was conscious when they were sent off, but I’m not sure if they’ll put him into a coma to recover properly.” Tony is pretty sure that he can pinpoint the second Steve’s heartbreaks. He recovers pretty quickly though, pulling himself together; but it is very much Captain America in charge because Tony knows that Steve Rogers is dying inside. Peter doesn’t zip his emotions up as well as Steve, he lets out a cry crumpling to the floor. 

“He’s-“ Clint starts but he doesn't complete the sentence, before Tony is kneeling in front of Peter, not crowding him but close enough for the kid to know he’s there. Tony is rambling on about his latest project, something to do with math and physics, Clint can’t catch all of it, he’d taken his hearing aids out. 

“Having a panic attack,” Sam says, “Steve?” 

“He was diagnosed with PTSD two weeks or so ago,” Steve shrugs, he was going to debrief the team about it the day Peter was taken. “He’s had one to two before, things have been hard on him, and I don’t think he got the right kind of support after his mom and dad died, I don’t know, but Tony’s good with it.” Steve is telling the truth, Tony knows exactly how to coax Peter out of his panic attacks, he’s seen it before. 

“Who’d have thought that Tony Stark would be so good with PTSD, huh?” Sam says the other two look at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay, I’m missing something, aren’t I? This is what I get for joining the team two years late.” 

“Tony has PTSD, or he did have, after New York, Extremis, and Afghanistan, you know,” Steve pauses, “he’s recovering, but he still sometimes has panic attacks.” 

“Damn, we’re all a little messed up, aren’t we?” Sam sighs rubbing his hand across his eyes.

“Oh yeah,” Clint grins, “but when we’re put together, we make a sort of functioning family. You know, teamwork and all that shit.” 

After Peter has calmed down enough, Clint, Sam, and Steve join Thor, Rhodes, and Natasha to do one more completely final sweep of the building, before they burn it to the ground. They don’t find much, but there is a box of files that had been stored in a hidden alcove. Natasha finds it, it’s full of pieces of paper in Russian and about twenty memory drives. Tony takes it from her, he can upload the drives to JARVIS on the quinjet so the AI can start decrypting and filing the information. 

The ride home is quiet, they are sitting in the quinjet in silence; Tony is tapping at his holoscreen, murmuring quietly to JARVIS every now and then, Peter is pressed up against his side, his head on Tony’s shoulder. He’s sleeping, his breathing slow and measured, Tony allows himself to relax just a little; basking in the warmth of his son breathing and alive beside him. Steve is on Peter’s other side, he has his arm around him, his hand is resting on the back of Tony’s neck, playing with the little hairs there. Sam, Clint, and Natasha are stitching up their wounds; Thor is staring out the window, his arms folded, an unusually severe expression painting his face. Rhodey is flying the jet, he's talking to air traffic control, getting the positions of all civilian and military aircraft that could be in their way; his face is set in a grim line of determination. 

***

The only noise in the room is the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the whoosh of air from the ventilator. Bucky is surrounded by tubes and machines as they carefully monitor his recovery. Steve is sitting beside him, in the same position as he’s been since four days ago; when Bucky was put in the coma. The blast has ripped through both his stomach, intestine, and liver just about tearing his abdomen up. Even with the serum HYDRA had given him, there is a high chance that Bucky naturally will not wake. Steve clasps Bucky’s limp hand and prays for the first time in a long time. He prays for Bucky’s health and happiness, he prays for Peter, that he won’t lose another person so soon after May and Ben. He prays for Tony, knowing that Bucky’s death would tear the other man apart; lastly, he prays for himself, it’s more of an afterthought really. 

The room is so cold and clinical, there’s nothing in there save for a bed and two chairs. There isn’t even a window. SHEILD insists on caring for Bucky at HQ and Steve knows better than to resist. He wishes that there was something to take his mind off things. The walls are painted a disgusting off-white colour, like rotten milk. Steve feels himself falling apart, slowly, but surely with the beep of the heart monitor, tapping out a rhythm to which he’s losing his mind. There is nothing he would not give for Bucky to wake up, he would lay down his life so that Bucky would live. His best friend has had far too harsh a life, far too sad an existence to die now. Steve is crying, he knows he’s crying; he’s pretty sure he hasn't stopped since he sat down in the chair some time ago. 

“You’ve been here for four days, Steve,” Tony says moving so that he sat beside Steve, he’s looking at Bucky; one of his hands comes to rest on Bucky’s wrist just above Steve’s own. “You’ve been sitting here without eating or sleeping. I know you can go for longer than average without either, but I also know that you need a break. At least a shower and some food.” Tony turns to face him, his other hand stroking across Steve’s face and into his hair. He pulls Steve’s head down and rests it against his shoulder in a kind of hug. “Please, go and take care of yourself; if there’s any change, I’ll have JARVIS notify you.”

“God,” Steve puts his head in his hand, his voice is croaky from disuse. “I haven’t asked about Peter, I’m sorry Tony. I’ve just been-“

“It’s okay,” Tony shakes his head, tugging Steve in closer, “I get it. He’s been your best friend for practically ever. Peter is okay, he’s with Clint, Bruce, and Nat; the doctors discharged him. There’s nothing more they can do concerning his uh, his thing.” 

“I’m glad he’s okay,” Steve mumbles into Tony’s chest, he can feel Tony’s hand combing through his hair; he loses himself in the touch. “I’m so tired.” He yawns Tony can feel it against his skin, the small puff of air. “I’m tired of watching over friends as they lie in hospital beds. I just feel like there's nothing I can do, I'm supposed to be a hero and there's nothing I can do.”

“Go home Steve,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s hair, “I’ve got him. Don’t worry, I’ll be here; I won’t leave him.” 

***

Warm water sluices down Steve’s back as he lathers shampoo through his hair. The realisation hits him slowly, it feels like a comforting, pleasant, light spreading through him. He loves Bucky, and he loves Tony. There’s no panic, just a little confusion, he wonders as he’s washing the shampoo out if loving two people at once is accepted in this century; he knows that there’s so much of what is and isn’t okay nowadays that he’s missing. He's torn in half or feels like he is. Not one thing he read about this century could have prepared him for it, Tony has been there for everything, every panic attack; he's there at the end of every SHEILD mandated therapy session. In return Steve has been there for him since he got back from his cross-country road-trip; they had fallen for each other without even noticing it. His feelings for Bucky, though, they have never left him, not since Steve was old enough to know what love meant. Pondering on his feelings for a moment, he doesn't notice when he gets shampoo in his eye. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he fumbles, half blind, for the towel he’d laid out by the shower. He’s back in his rooms at the tower, if Tony had been there, he’d be in Tony’s suite with the shower that shoots water in every direction. Instead, he’s in the rooms he’d furnished himself when everything was terrifying and new, and he didn't know what a jet tub was. 

“JARVIS, update on Bucky please,” he’s only been gone forty-five minutes, but he’s too tired to think of anything else. 

“Mr Barnes’ condition has not changed, he still remains stable, but critical,” JARVIS responds, Steve imagines that there’s some softness to his tone. “Sir has not left his side since he sent you out. Would you like a live feed, Captain?”

“No, thank you JARVIS.” He pauses, then figures that JARVIS is as good as anyone else in the tower to ask his question too. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?” JARVIS replies Steve would like to think that there was a slight hint of humour behind JARVIS’s voice. 

“Is it possible to love two people, in a, uh, romantic way, at once? Is that, okay? In this century?” Steve asks, he’s slightly worried as to what he’s going to hear from the AI, but he needs to know. “I mean, I know I love them both but, will people-“

“If I may,” JARVIS interrupts as Steve starts to send himself into a panic. “Here are some resources detailing polyamory; they might be of use to you, Captain Rogers. Another thing, Captain,” JARVIS pauses like he’s waiting for Steve respond.

“Yes, JARVIS?” He looks up to the ceiling, as though that was the AI was hiding.

“Protecting Tony Stark is my primary objective,” there’s a warning in that sentence, Steve can feel it. “You make him happy, Captain, please continue to do so.” 

***

Tony takes his place by Barnes’s bedside, he’s alone with the sleeping man. Memories, from when they first brought Barnes in, fly through his head, he can see them as clear as day. Barnes was silent for the first week, he never said anything, just followed Steve around like a lost puppy; Tony remembers the first time Bucky spoke to him. They were in his workshop, Tony was working on Bucky’s arm; he’d been drawing up specs, he’d threatened to give Bucky a bright pink arm if he didn't say what colour he wanted. Bucky had looked at him right in the eye and said, ‘do it, I dare you.’ Tony had been a little in shock, but he’d laughed anyway and told JARVIS that he could keep the silver. Since then, he likes to think that they have become pretty good friends, sometimes, in the darkest crevices of his mind, Tony wonders if they could ever become more. The thought dies before he can truly mull it over, every time, he wills it so; he has Steve, and Steve is good and kind, and amazing, and so far out of Tony’s league. 

Bucky is handsome, even when he’s as badly hurt as he is now, he’s handsome; Tony can see why he was popular with the ladies at the camps. There have been many a story about Bucky and the ‘dames’ from Steve, and even a few straight from the horses’ mouth. He’s started coming to Bucky and Steve’s weekly poker nights; there hasn't been a word of complaint from either of them, only a kiss on the cheek from Steve and small welcoming smile from Bucky. They sit, they drink even if two of them can’t get drunk and the other is only drinking apple juice; they talk about the war, the battle of New York, Afghanistan, and they play poker as a way of distracting themselves from the memories the words pull from their minds. 

“You’re not allowed to die, James Buchanan Barnes,” he pokes lightly at Bucky’s arm, “you’re not allowed to die because, if you do then I will have spent all that time working on that arm, for nothing. You’re not allowed to die, because I was going to let you take Peter to that Adventureland thing when he got back, and now he’s back, so you’re going to take him. You can’t break a promise you made to a thirteen-year-old. You’re not allowed to die because,” he takes a deep breath, “because Steve loves you and he’d break without you. You only just got each other back properly. Don’t leave him so soon. Plus, I think I'd miss you quite a bit myself, who else is going to sit in the workshop and listen to me ramble?” 

“Tony Stark,” there’s a voice and a cough from the doorway; Tony turns to see a man there, in what looks like robes and a beard that is totally copying his own. “I am Doctor Strange. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The man walks in and holds out his hand, Tony notices the scars there and catalogues them for later. 

“Uh huh,” Tony takes the Doctor’s hand, “is that your real name? Because, man that must be a fun one with the kids.” 

“Stark, I’m here to help, if you can’t help but be annoying then at least you could be quiet.” Strange steps forward, there’s a green light coming from the ugly necklace thingy that’s sitting around his neck. His red cape thing rises behind him, and Tony looks down to see him floating about four inches from the floor. It's a little extravagant for Tony's taste, the whole floating thing, but the wizard doesn't seem to be a threat so he lets it slide, for now. 

“So you’re a wizard?” Tony raises an eyebrow, “because I can say now that there is nothing that magic can do for him that medicine has already tried.”

“Incorrect, on both counts,” Strange mutters, looking down at Bucky, “I am a doctor and the Sorcerer Supreme, not a wizard. And there is something that magic can do to help him that medicine cannot do, trust me, I would know. If I may,” he raises his eyebrow toward Bucky. 

“Fuck it, my son’s a spider, my boyfriend is a super soldier from the 1940s, and I fly around in a morph-suit, so fuck it; go for it,” he stands up and moves towards the wall. There’s a pause as the doctor moves forwards, the light at his chest glows green again, and Tony can see the bandages disappearing from Bucky’s wounds; he can see the wound open and then close again like it never happened. 

Bucky’s eyes open about a second after. There’s a horrible choking sound as he tries to breathe through the tubes, but Strange is there carefully removing them. Tony knows the feeling, of something choking you, making it so no air can get to your lungs, the sense of fire spreading through his chest. He shakes his head and says Bucky’s name, softly, just loud enough for the super soldier to hear. Bucky turns to see Tony standing there, then he melts, he goes limp and relaxes. 

“It’s okay, Bucky, I got you,” Tony says carefully moving around Strange as he takes Bucky’s hand not the side opposite to the wizard. “Thank you, Doctor Strange. JARVIS let Steve know that Bucky’s awake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos, and comments mean the world thank you all so so so so much, honestly I had no idea this would do so well, thank you. 
> 
> Don't forget that I have a marvel tumblr if you want to come and yell at me on there: wxntxr-sxldxxr


	7. Bonus scene.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add a little bit to Peter and Tony's relationship, but I didn't want to make the last chapter so long. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: mentions of broken bones, ptsd, and panic attacks.

Tony stands behind the glass wall the separates the CT scanner and the computer room; he can see Peter lying in the huge metal tube, Peter looks perfectly relaxed, but his heart rate is elevated, and his breathing is slightly too quick for Tony’s tastes. He wants nothing more to grab Peter and take him back to the tower, to keep him there and not let him leave for anything. He knows that he can’t do that, he knows that Peter needs to see the doctors, that they need to check nothing else is wrong. Tony would rather be anywhere in the world at that moment, his body aches in at least six different places; he’s pretty sure a cut he has on his thigh needs stitches, but he will not let anyone touch him until he knows for sure that Peter is safe. 

“You okay in there, Petey?” He asks, placing a hand on the glass, “we won’t be too much longer, just checking out that ankle.”

“I’m okay, just,” Peter takes a deep breath, Tony knows they need to move quickly, “just hurry up, there’s not enough room in here to breathe.”

“Only five seconds more Peter, take twenty deep breaths, and we’ll probably be done,” the doctor sitting next to Tony says as he moves the cursor down the screen. “Has Peter broken this ankle before, Mr Stark?” 

“Not in the time that I’ve known him, is it broken now?” Tony looks at the screen, he doesn’t know all that much about medicine, but he knows enough to see that Peter’s ankle has been broken and set wrong. 

“No, it’s been broken fairly recently though, and it’s been set out of place, see here, the inside part of the tibia is slightly wrong. That must be what is making Peter walk funny, though this fracture looks to be about a few weeks old. This would be within the time that Peter has been in your care, though I am sure you would have noticed a broken ankle.” The doctor considers this for a moment, she chooses her next words carefully and slowly. “Peter, did they inject you with anything apart from the stuff that makes you stick to walls?” 

“Yeah,” Peter’s voice is quiet, tension leaks through the words as he says them, “there was one other thing, after that, they knocked me about a bit, but nothing really hurt that much. They made me run up the walls and stick to the ceiling, then they pulled me down again; I think I sprained my ankle when that happened. Not sure.” Tony can see him getting antsy, there’s a tight set nature to his shoulders, and his hands are starting to fiddle with the hospital gown. 

“You need to get him out there as soon as possible,” Tony mutters to the doctor, “he has PTSD, he doesn’t like enclosed spaces, just get him out of there before he has another panic attack.”

“The scan is finished, if you want to go in there now you can,” the doctor smiles and unlocks the door into the room with the machine. 

The bed slowly comes out of the machine, Peter’s eyes are wide, he’s terrified; Tony knows he has about a minute to calm him down before there’s another panic attack today. Peter’s hair is still matted with blood, sweat, and grime; he looks like he’s about nine, not thirteen, Tony’s heart breaks there and then. Even he couldn't protect Peter, even he with his eyes all around New York City, he’s supposed to be a hero; what kind of hero lets his own son get kidnapped? He shakes his head, now is not the time to break down, he has to be there for his son. 

“Hey Petey, you’re okay, we’ve got you,” he says slowly, as though Peter is a frightened wild animal. “You’re gonna be okay. Do you mind if I help you into the chair?” His frantically beating heart is soothed when Peter shakes his head and holds an arm. 

“What did the doctor say, Dad?” Peter mumbles, it is the first time Peter has ever called Tony ‘dad’. 

“She said that your ankle is broken and that they did a shoddy surgery job on your wrists but the web-shooters aren’t infected or anything,” Tony says, he’s completely resolved to telling Peter the whole truth. “She said that she doesn’t know what’s making you heal yourself so fast, so they’re going to do a blood test or two.”

“A blood test,” Peter’s face screws up, if Tony didn't know better he would say that Peter is pouting, trying to get out of it. “Do I have to?” He knows though that Peter is actually terrified. 

“Yeah, Pete, they have to make sure that you are okay; the only way to do that properly is to take some blood. Or, I supposed if we asked him really nicely, Bruce could come and do it; cause you trust Bruce, right?” Tony sighs, “Would you be okay with a blood test if Bruce did it?” 

“Can you do it?” Peter asks, looking up at Tony, and yeah, Tony will never get used to seeing his eyes looking back at him. 

“I’m not a doctor, Peter,” Tony says, shaking his head.

“Pepper told me that you once did heart surgery on yourself,” he says, now he definitely is pouting. 

“Yeah, but I don’t have a medical license,” Tony counters ruffling Peter’s hair, “okay you can ask for Bruce or Doctor Chavez to do it, but I can’t give you a blood test, Petey.” 

“Fine,” Peter sighs, “it was worth a try, Doctor Chavez, don’t want to bother Bruce.” He yawns, it’s a whole body thing, as though he’s lost what little energy he’d gained by sleeping on the ‘jet. 

“Right, come on then,” Tony wheels Peter down the hallway, Peter is quietly, sleepily humming the Star Wars theme tune. 

***

“We have the results from the bloods, SHEILD does them on site and instantly,” it’s only been about two hours since Peter had had his blood taken, but Doctor Chavez walks in with a chart. “It’s like Peter was injected with an approximation to the serum that was used on Captain Rogers. We’re not sure the full implications of this, honestly we probably won’t know exactly how this will affect Peter until a few months at least have passed. We can guess about his healing abilities, those bruises on his face have all almost gone, and his broken ankle, which we can assume happened sometime this week has already healed. Moving on from that, his ankle will need to be re-broken if it is to heal right, that will happen under an anaesthetic so you won’t be awake for that, Peter. Though, that can wait so long as Peter is not in pain?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m not in pain.” Peter gasps, he shakes his head turning to Tony, “please, Dad, I can’t do that.”

“Alright, Petey, don’t worry it’s okay, just as long as there is no pain. I mean it, you need to tell us the truth so that we can help you,” Tony places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, he’s standing by the bed that Peter’s lying on. 

“I can walk on it fine, there’s no pain, it just twinges every now and then,” Peter says, looking at the doctor steadily. 

“Okay, that can wait till you’re ready then, but not too much longer. We would like to keep Peter in overnight, tomorrow night, but we are also aware of his mental health; if your AI could keep us updated on Peter’s status through the night, then there is no real reason that he shouldn’t go home. We would like to see Peter attending therapy sessions once a week instead of his usual bi-weekly sessions, just for a month or so. Apart from that, there is nothing else, Peter will need to stay for a few hours just so we can keep an eye, but you can go ahead and take him home.” She smiles, it’s kind, and understanding; Tony can’t help but smile back to her. 

“Thank you, Doctor Chavez,” He looks at her, holding out a hand with the smile still on his face. 

“Please, Mr Stark, call me America. America Chavez,” she walks out the room, white lab coat swaying behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to leave kudos and comment, thank you very much guys; this is amazing im yelling.
> 
> marvel tumblr: @wxntxr-sxldxxr


	8. Chapter 8

The tower was empty when Steve gets in, Bucky’s arm is slung over his shoulder; he’s stumbling a little bit cause he’s still a bit high on painkillers. They ride the elevator in silence, Bucky is leaning heavily into Steve, his breathing is a little irregular, but Doctor Strange said that it was to be expected. Steve really wants nothing more than to fall into bed, he wants to entwine himself so entirely with Tony that he forgets who he is; he wants to listen to Tony’s soft snuffle as he sleeps, he wants to feel normal for a few hours. He doesn't want to leave Buck though, those web pages he’d read on polyamory weigh heavily on his mind, he has no idea how to broach the subject with Tony though. How can you look at the person you love, and ask them to let you love another? Shaking his head, he pushes the thought out of his mind and steps into the communal area, helping Bucky into the room. 

Singing, that’s muffled by the wall, echoes through the room from the kitchen; there’s no backing track playing, so someone must be singing. Steve listens hard to the music, trying to hear the lyrics and guess the person singing. They’re singing a song Steve doesn't recognise, not that that is unusual; he still hasn't really gotten up to date with music, seventy years worth of great songs is hard to process. Whoever it is has a beautiful voice, low and slightly croaky, but gorgeous nonetheless. The sounds of the tap being turned on, and water filling the sink shakes Steve out of his reverie, he nudges Bucky with his hip and raises an eyebrow in silent question. 

“Kitchen,” Bucky mumbles, “I’m famished.” 

“Always are,” Steve huffs out a small laugh, which grows when he sees Bucky’s face turn into an indignant pout. 

“Like you can talk,” Bucky mutters but he’s laughing too, blue eyes brighter than Steve has seen them in a while. “You eat twice as much as me, the amount of pasta you eat could’a fed us for a week back in the day.” Steve smiles wider as Bucky’s old Brooklyn accent makes an appearance, he’s missed it in the past few days.

“Nah, you always ate more’n me,” he flicks Bucky’s arm, not hard but hard enough for the metal to make a tinging sound. “I remember one time you ate a whole loaf of bread in one sitting, your ma was so cross that you’d not saved any for your sisters that she shooed you outta the house with a broom. You had’a hide out a mine for three days, but when you got there, you pulled a slice of bread out your pockets ’n handed it to me. You knew that ma had been too sick to work and we’d no food in the house.” 

“Always took care’a you, Stevie,” Bucky looks at him, still leaning into his side, and Steve is struck by the realisation that maybe his feelings aren't as unrequited as he thought they were, because they are definitely having a moment. He tenses up, almost imperceptibly, because Tony is somewhere in this tower, Tony his boyfriend, Tony who trusts him. “Always going to take care’a you, Punk.” Bucky looks away and the moment is shattered, scattered to the wind, but Steve knows that he can’t ignore the fact that it happened. 

“Bucky,” Steve chokes out, they’ve stopped moving; Steve desperately wants Bucky to look at him, but he won’t, his long hair obscures the side of his face closest to Steve. “Buck-“

“I know, you’re with Tones, I know, Stevie. It’s okay, you’re my brother, you know. You’re my brother, that’s never going to change,” Bucky nods, his voice sounds strangled like something is lodged in his throat. The words sound like they’re causing him pain to say, and Steve really doesn't know what to do. “We don’t need’a talk about it, Stevie, I get it, don’t worry ‘bout me.” Bucky swallows, “can we go to the kitchen now, I’m absolutely starved.” Bucky squeezes Steve shoulder and starts moving off to the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Buck, sure,” Steve sighs and walks with him, his stomach a boiling pit of confusion and nerves; it feels like a whole company of dancers are tapping in his insides, there’s nothing he can do to get them to stop as his mind dwells on what just happened. 

Tony is in the kitchen, his hands curled around a cup of cocoa, a tablet is propped against the milk; JARVIS is playing a video or something on it. He humming softly, though sometimes he slips into singing; he’s in track pants and a stained tank top, Steve hears Bucky draw in a sharp breath, he assumes because of what just happened and how close Tony was to it. Tony’s hair is ruffled like he just got out of bed, there’s pillow marks on his face; the warm gold light that streams out from the one lamp on in the room makes his skin look so soft and warm that Steve just wants to bury himself in it. His foot is tapping some distant rhythm on the footrest of the stool, his track pants have oil and paint stains, they are also very baggy and very familiar. Steve stifles a laugh as he realises that Tony is wearing his track pants, there is nothing he wants to do more than to draw the scene in front of him, but he forces himself to cough. 

“Jesus, I wasn’t kidding when I said we should attach bells to you,” Tony snorts, “you both move too quietly for your own good if I’d had one of my gauntlets on. Anyway, good to see you home, Robocop, I’ll need to take a look at your arm, now that you’re here; don’t even want to think about the damage it got hit within the last battle.” 

“You were singing,” Bucky asks raising an eyebrow, he’s looking at Tony strangely, Steve mentally traces the curve of his mouth, imagining what it would feel like to kiss it. He pulls the thought back quickly, he had been thinking that with Tony standing in front of him, he thinks Bucky can hear the small intake of breath but he elects to ignore it. “What song?” 

“The Show Must Go On, I made you listen to it a month or so ago, it’s by Queen.” Tony says looking too shocked to say anything else, “damn super soldier hearing.” He mutters, but he looks more abashed than anything else, a faint splotch of pink dusts his cheeks. 

“That band with the lead singer who was bi?” Tony nods a little proudly, looking at Bucky with surprisingly soft eyes. “You sing good, Shellhead,” Bucky grins, moving away from Steve and sitting on the barstool next to Tony. They make a handsome pair, Steve’s mind wanders, all glossy brown hair and tan and pale skin mixing. 

“Only one of the greatest bands of all time,” Tony murmurs, he’s looking at Steve with an odd expression on his face, “Bruce made curry, there’s some leftover in the fridge, we left enough for both of you. Uh, Steve, you okay?” Bucky hops off the stool and busies himself with the curry. 

“I’m fine, just,” he pauses and takes a breath, moving towards, Tony and holding him in a tight hug. “It’s good to be back, it’s good to be home.” He says into Tony’s hair, a private moment between the two of them. He presses a soft kiss on the top of Tony’s head, sliding his hand down Tony’s arm. They stand like that for a while breathing each other in, holding each other, until Bucky coughs quietly from the breakfast bar. 

“Curry,” he says, in a quiet voice, he smiles at Steve gesturing to the steaming bowl in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t wanna start without you, but I’m gonna fade away if I don’t put some food in my face in, like, a hot minute.” 

They break apart, Steve smiling at Bucky, and joining him at the table. Tony hovers a little, hesitation clear in his posture, his shoulders are set in a tense line, and his eyes are uncertain. Steve huffs, a small sound; one only Bucky picks up on, but Tony catches the movement. He smiles gratefully, as Steve gestures for the door, Tony’s out the room in a flash leaving only a faint whiff of cologne in his wake. 

“Like a whirlwind,” Bucky snorts, “we ain’t in Kansas no more, Stevie.” Bucky bumps his shoulder against Steve, its a move that used to make Steve stumble, or at least break his pace, but now it barely even moves him. 

“Buck-“ Steve tries, his places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “we should-“

“I said I don’t wanna talk,” Bucky’s gruff, his voice is gravelly, he draws in on himself; Steve can see him shutting down like one of Tony’s computers, the light inside him seems to wink out. “You got Tony, that’s good, great. He’s good for you, I don’t remember seein’ you this happy, Stevie. Not even when we were in the Commandos, y’know, I don’ wanna get in between you an’ him.” He shovels more curry into his mouth, “hey, we should go thank Big Green for this, it’s darn good though I’m not sure exactly what’s in it.” 

“It’s Rajma Dal,” Bruce is stumbling into the kitchen, he has a blurry, tired look that tells Steve he’s spent most of his time today in the lab, probably buried under a mountain of work alongside Tony. “It’s really just kidney beans and spices, you know, super simple. I could teach you to make it if you want?” 

Bucky’s whole demeanour changes in a matter of moments, he’s smiling brightly a Bruce, like he hasn’t just been rejected by his best friend. “That’d be great, Doc, thanks. I used ta cook, you know when Stevie was too sick. Never was great-“

“No, you nearly burned down our apartment, we had to get the fire crew in and everything,” Steve snorts, Bruce turns a little pale. “It was fine though, and it’d be nothin’ that JARVIS couldn’t handle. Don’t worry Doctor Banner, Bucky can control himself.”

“You know,” Bruce sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “you two are terrifying when you club together. Yeah okay, James, I’ll teach you to make the curry if you stop grinning at me like that,” Bruce smiles though, “come on.” Bruce grabs Bucky and his bowl and leads him through to the pantry. “I’ll start by getting you to try and guess what spices are in there. Tony’s in his lab, Steve.” He throws over his shoulder. 

“Thanks, Bruce, but I gotta go see Pete, seen Tones already,” Steve grins and places the bowl in the sink; there’s no point cleaning it, he knows that the whole kitchen is going to be wrecked by the time Bruce and Bucky are finished. “JARVIS, where’s Peter and is he going back to school tomorrow?” 

“Peter is in his room, he is not asleep despite Sir telling him to go to bed an hour ago, Captain,” JARVIS’s voice sounds affectionate and amused. “He is waiting for you to get home so that he can show you his history report on WWII.” 

“I see,” Steve smiles a little, “let him know I am on my way so that he can quickly fake being asleep.” 

Peter’s room is down the hall from Tony’s; it has a sign on the door with his name on, which is written on a plastic Captain America shield. Peter had said it was too babyish when Tony had suggested it to him as they walked through Target, but it had ended up in their cart anyway. He smiles, it feels really good to be home, he’d spent so long in the hospital with Bucky that he’d forgotten the little quirks of the tower. There’s only one small difference, the webbing which covers the door, Steve raises an eyebrow but pushes into the room anyway. 

“You can stop pretending to be asleep, Pete, JARVIS already told me you were awake buddy,” Steve smiles as he walks in the room, there’s a light on by Peter’s bed; he’s huddled under the covers with only a small tuft of hair visible. 

“JARVIS is a traitor,” Peter mumbles but he sits up and grins at Steve anyway, “is Bucky okay? You spent ages at the hospital, I hope he didn't get hurt cause of me. Really, I’m not that important, you didn't need to all come after me.”

“Bucky got hurt but not cause of you, he should have waited for back up before he went in,” Steve shakes his head, ruffling Peter’s hair, enjoying the way he pouts. “It wasn't his fault either, mind, sometimes things like this happen; with us, things like this happen more often than normal. It’s no one’s fault, not really. It took me a long time to learn that, but you’re a smart boy, Pete.” 

“I guess, I just didn't like the idea of him being in the hospital because I got kidnapped and he had to come after me. What if one of you guys had died? It would be all my fault and wouldn't have been able to stop it happening.” Peter’s lip wobbles dangerously, Steve wonders if Peter is okay, he looks the kid right in his eyes before he speaks. He doesn't want to slip into Captain America mode, so he tries to respond as Steve Rogers. 

“First of all, everyone who went in after you chose to be there, all of us knew and accepted that risk. We are your family, and we look after our own, we care about you, Petey,” Steve makes sure that Peter understands, he can’t bear the thought of someone so young carrying so much guilt. “You’re too young to feel this kinda guilt, Peter, Bucky knew the risk he took. No one died. We train for hours every day to make ourselves harder to kill, even if someone died on that mission, it still wouldn't be your fault. It would be the person who killed them’s fault.” Steve places a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Do you hear me, Peter?” 

“I hear you,” Peter mumbles, and he falls into Steve, throwing his arms around Steve’s waist. “I was so scared. I thought no one would find me. And look, they turned me into a monster. They made me into a monster, and I can’t do anything about it. No one can fix me, dad and Bruce tried for the first few days, and they can’t fix me so no one can, and SHIELD is saying that I can’t go to school. I just want to see Ned and MJ, it’s not fair.” 

“SHIELD is saying that you can’t go to school?” Steve hadn’t known that things were so serious with Peter, he feels a wave guilt rush over him as he thinks about Tony working for days in the workshop, feeling like he had to fix his son while Steve hadn't been there to help him. 

“Yeah, I heard Fury in the kitchen with Dad,” Peter nods, “he said that I was too strong to go to school, he called me dangerous.”

“You aren't dangerous Peter,” Steve wants to punch Nick Fury, he wants to hurt him so hard, he hasn't felt anger like this in a long time. “Fury shouldn't have said those things. There’s nothing wrong with being strong, and there is nothing wrong with you. You are not a monster, and you are not dangerous. I’m sure your dad said that too. You just need to learn to control your powers, that might take some time, but it does not make you anything like dangerous. You are a good boy, Pete, you are kind and generous, smart and big-hearted. None of those things describes a monster. You are a good person who had a bad thing happen to them.” 

Peter doesn't reply, he nods and stays in the same position, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder; his arms are wound around Steve’s waist. Steve smiles and presses a kiss on to the top of Peter’s head, he feels privileged that Peter thought he could talk to him, but he also feels a surge of worry; he hopes that Peter has told his dad about how he was feeling. Steve doesn't want to discuss Peter without him present, but he knows that Tony should be aware of how his son is feeling. Peter’s breathing slows and evens out, he’s fallen asleep, snuggled into Steve’s side. Steve is sure he has never seen anything more adorable in his entire life, but he is also completely trapped. Peter has huge black bags under his eyes and Steve is pretty sure that he hasn't been sleeping, so now he can’t move, because if he does he’ll wake Peter up. He sighs and looks up at the ceiling, wondering if he could talk to JARVIS and get Tony in here without waking Peter. 

“JARVIS?” He whispers, praying that the AI will realise Peter is asleep.

“Yes, Captain,” JARVIS’s volume is low enough that Steve is pretty sure he only heard thanks to his super soldier hearing. He thanks God for the AI’s intelligence, before realising that JARVIS was built by Tony so of course, JARVIS is going to have some sense. 

“Could you get Tony to come here, please?” He smiles a little, not even daring to shift so that his shoulders stopped their constant aching. 

“Right away, Captain,” JARVIS sounds warm and fond, it makes Steve smile more before he starts to stroke through Peter’s hair. 

Time passes as he sits there watching Peter sleep, at one point he’d started to burrow further into Steve. Then he’d just sighed and stopped moving, Steve is seized with so much love for Peter, he never thought that he would feel this way about a child. Steve knows that he came to terms with never being able to have a family in the way everyone else had one a long time ago; now he does have one, and he loves them, all of them. He doesn't hear the door open, but he hears Tony’s soft laugh as he walks into the room. Tony’s eyes are sparkling with mirth as he takes in the sight in front of him. Carefully, he unwraps Peter’s arms from around Steve’s waist, and lays him down again; he pulls the duvet up to Peter’s chin and presses a kiss to his forehead, before catching Steve’s hand and pulling him up into an embrace. 

“He talked to me, you know?” Steve whispers, “he told me about SHIELD, do you think I could punch Fury?” 

“I’m still arguing with them about that,” Tony sighs, “he think’s he’s a monster. Honestly, I came pretty fucking close to throwing my chair at Fury’s face when he said it; no one says my son is a monster, so yeah if you wanna punch him I’d let you.” Tony buries his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. Tony’s hands are around Steve’s waist; Steve pulls back slightly and presses their lips together in a chaste kiss that was meant more as a comfort than anything else. 

“I’ll talk to Fury, no point being Captain America if I can’t use it for anything, is there?” Steve grins, as they pull apart. He starts to lead Tony out of the room by his wrist, Tony shakes his head a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“I love it when you get all rebellious,” Tony grins pulling him down the hall towards his room, not before he pushes him against the wall outside and kisses him thoroughly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, sorry this update took a while, honestly, i had two exams last week so that's why. I'm done with finals so updates should be a bit more on the regular side. Leaving comments and kudos keeps me writing!!


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky is standing in front of the door to Tony’s workshop; he’s been there for the past fifteen minutes, debating whether or not to go in. His arm is twinging, he thinks he did something to it on the last mission. Guilt is bubbling through him, as he thinks back to last night, he hates the idea of lying to Tony, of telling him that everything is fine; that he and Steve totally did not have a moment, that he hasn't thought of kissing Steve in the last few days. Music is blasting through the walls, Bucky can hear it, and feel the vibrations of the bass; Tony must be working on something, he thinks about asking JARVIS if Tony is too busy to see him, but that would just make his making a decision inevitable. Hovering outside the workshop seems like the best plan for the time being, he worries his lip between his teeth, wringing his hands until his arm gives another twinge. He definitely did something to it on the last mission, this twinge was enough to make him draw in a breath and for his knees to go weak.

“Fuck,” he gasps, putting a hand on the wall opposite him to steady himself, “fine, guess that’s you tellin’ me I need to go see the guy.” He mutters to his arm, it twinges again, the fingers moving in an uncontrolled spasm. “Okay, okay fine, I’m going in.”

The workshop is a chaotic mess of tools and various different holograms; Tony is buried under hologram of the suit. He’s humming along with the music, something by AC/DC, Bucky assumes, judging by the guitars and the voice. Bucky can’t see Tony’s face, his back is to the door, and he’s pretty sure that Tony hasn't heard him come in. There’s a moment when he considers walking out, but his arm is now starting to hurt constantly, small sparks of pain flying up and down it and into his chest.

“JARVIS,” Bucky says, “mute the music, please,” he asks the AI nicely because mamma Barnes didn't raise no animal. The AI mutes the music without saying anything.

“Hey, J, what happened to the-“ Tony turns on instinct, looking around to see Bucky standing in the entrance to his workshop, the fingers on his metal arm flexing and spasming. “So, you did actually damage it?” Bucky nods, Tony walks towards him. “Honestly, did you think you could get by without coming to see me about it? Because I’m looking at that arm and I kind of want to cry, what the hell did you do to it?”

“One of the HYDRA or AIM agents whatever they were shot it with those things they were using, the doctors at the hospital wanted to have a look at it, I remember Stevie telling them not to touch it but I’m not sure what the hell they did,” Bucky shrugs, pretending that he’s not enjoying feeling Tony’s hands running over his arm. “The sensation has almost gone as well like they fried the artificial nerves.”

“That’s exactly what they did, that’s why it's spasming too; you learn fast, Barnes,” Tony smiles as he sticks a screwdriver behind his ear, “whatever kind of gun they hit you with fried pretty much all the circuitry inside this thing, did a number on the plating as well. You’re lucky I’m so good at what I do that the rest of the thing held up, lesser engineering on it and it would have completely broken.” Tony muttered as he examined the arm.

“Lucky we got you, huh?” Bucky smiles, passing Tony the wrench before he even asks for it, “are you going to have to replace much of it? Only I’ve been thinking of a different color scheme for it.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony looks up at him, “what were you thinking? Bright pink? Purple? Blue? Striped? Spotted? I can do anything you like.” Tony grins flipping the wrench in his hand, unscrewing the plates and the different parts of the arm, Bucky grimaces it always feels little weird when people root around in the arm.

“Maybe something less,” he takes a breath, “eye-catching you know, this arm ain’t exactly subtle, Tony, it gives me away when I’m trying not to be noticed.”

“You want me to make you better at sneaking around?” Tony considers him for a minute, raising an eyebrow as he brings up a hologram of the arm, Bucky nods, Tony shakes his head. “Sure, but now I’m definitely putting some sort of bell on you, you’ve nearly made me die of a heart attack over ten times since you started living here. That arm is one of my only ways of knowing when you’re around, like an early warning system, I have a heart condition, Barnes. I’m no spring chicken unlike you cooked from frozen soldiers. But sure, J, mock up the matte black for me.” The arm changes in front of Bucky’s eyes, it goes from shiny silver to matt black, becoming as dark as night. The star on the outside of the arm changes too, from red to grey and from the star that HYDRA gave him to the same star that’s on the front of Steve’s uniform. “I thought I’d change the star too, but only when you asked to change the rest of the arm too, I didn’t want to push you, you know but um we can keep it the same as it was if you want. I don’t know your branding or whatever, and I don't wanna seem like I’m asking you to change your whole dealio, but yeah, I thought that that star would work better-“

“Tony, I love it,” Bucky looks at him, really looks at him, Tony is standing very close; their shoulders are touching where they’re bending over the hologram together. Tony’s deep brown eyes are worried and unsure, a look Bucky never expected him to wear. “Always thought I should get rid of the star now ‘m back to workin’ for the right side.” He squeezes Tony’s shoulder, “and the black is good too. Thank you, Tony.” He wants Tony to know how much he appreciates everything he’s done for him, Bucky never expected Tony to forgive him for everything he did. Tony had done more than that, he’d brought Bucky into his home and given Bucky everything he’s ever wanted. Tony relaxes as he glances at Bucky’s face, and breaks into a smile. It’s that moment when Bucky knows that he’s fucked up, he’s gone on both Tony and Steve, and it’s pulling him in two. He coughs and pulls back slightly, Nat’s voice in his head echoes, telling him that it’s okay, but his heart won’t let him believe it. “Блядь, почему я?” He whispers, Tony pulls back too, concern etched in the line between his eyebrows.

“You alright, Bucky?” Tony asks, tilting his head even as he picks up the wrench and starts working on Bucky’s arm again. His fingers are moving slowly up the arm, “you know I’m going to have to take this off completely if you want the respray done? Do you wanna do that now or later?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks Tony, think I ate something a little funky is all,” He relaxes back into the chair, letting Tony get at the part where the arm becomes his shoulder. “And now is fine, might as well, the alarm hasn’t gone off today. How long will I be out of action for?”

“Not long, the matte black is really just a hyper-durable vinyl wrapping, and the star is just some grey paint so like four hours I reckon? J?” Tony sticks the wrench behind his ear and takes out the screwdriver.

“Four hours will be ample time, Sir,” JARVIS responds, “we should have you up and running in less than a day, Sergeant.”

“Great!” Bucky grins, “I could take Peter out for ice cream, if that’s okay, I know he’s been bouncing off the walls since he got back. Not having the arm means I can get used to the new less high tech prosthetic you built.”

“Please, take him, he’s been crawling all over the ceiling, Clint the fucker showed him the air vents that he can now get into. I swear I’m going to kill that man,” Tony rolls his eyes, finding the catch where the arm meets Bucky’s shoulder. “The whole spider-kid thing is going to take some getting used to, I mean, of course, I obtain a child, and then he gets turned into a web-spinning-ceiling-dwelling-kid. Just my life, right? I already lived with two WWII soldiers, two ex-assassins, an ex-carney, and a scientist that got a little too friendly with gamma rays, as well as the Norse god of thunder; why not add a spider-kid to the mix?”

Bucky grins and huffs out a slight laugh, it’s all he can manage with Stark’s hands literally in his shoulder. The arm comes off quickly, more easily than it ever did, since Stark last got his hands on it, and Bucky is sure that when he gets back, there will be two or three new things for him to learn about. Stark is smiling as he talks about Peter, it’s such a soft look, his face has gone from genius scientist to proud dad in a matter of minutes.

“You know, I caught him stuck to the window, trying to climb out and on to the roof? He said he could stick to almost anything now, so I threatened to put him in a huge bathtub if he did it again. The look on his face was priceless, Bucky, I’m telling you, you should have been there. He turned pale and promised not to do it again, made sure he knew I was joking though, I’d never do that to him. His therapist told me to try and normalize his powers a little, you know but it’s hard.” Tony scrubs at his face, getting oil on to his forehead. “We’re going to try and get him back to school for September, I don’t want him to grow up like me. I want him to feel normal, he’s going over to Ned’s in a week which I think-“

“Tony, you’re doing great, the kid’s happy and knows he’s well-loved, and that’s all you can ask for. He’s got a family of superheroes to looks after him, and he’s well fed. Really, Tony, you’re fine. Can’t believe you’re going to me for fathering advice, honestly,” Bucky rolls his eyes, “I am the least suitable person to go to this sort of thing for. Maybe you should ask Steve, he bought about twenty books on looking after kids when Peter looked like he was here to stay.”

“He did?” Tony raises his eyebrow, but he’s still wearing that soft, sappy look; Bucky feels himself die a little more inside.

“Um, yeah,” he scratches the back of his head with the arm that’s not currently being detached from his body. “He got really nervous and ended up buying nearly the whole of that Barnes & Noble parenting section. The cashier thought he was real cute though he wouldn't give her the time of day, you know, not now he’s with you. She turned her attention me so fast I got whiplash, but uh…” Bucky freezes, Tony’s humming some nameless tune, but he’s looking mildly interested in what Bucky’s saying.

“But what? She, not your type? You into redheads and she was a blonde or something? Or did she not have a winning personality?” Tony looks at him, the soft look has been wiped off his face, it’s been replaced with a look of someone who is focused on one singular thing, and Bucky is pretty sure it’s not his arm.

“Yeah, she ain’t my type,” Bucky tries for casual, but he fails, “you know, she’s missing certain things and has some things that I ain’t really in to. Honestly, if Stevie weren’t with you, she’d have more luck with ‘im.”

“Must have been hard in the forties, what with you know the whole like dick and die thing,” Tony grunts, he’s got the screwdriver in his teeth, his hands buried in the wiring of Bucky’s arm.

“It wasn't easy, that’s for sure, but we lived in Brooklyn, there was a pretty decent gay scene there if you knew where to look. Most of the other people around there just turned the other cheek, didn't see what they didn't want to, that kind’a thing you know?” Bucky smiles a little, remembering Brooklyn as it had been, “it was okay, we got by. But now, now I’m living, it’s nice to know that I won’t get arrested because of who’s hand I wanna hold.”

“Actually, I was thinking,” Tony says, “I wanna come out like properly, I know the press haven't exactly kept things a secret; they’ve been snooping into my business for years, but I’ve never confirmed what they’ve all been thinking. So I thought, if I can do some kid good by telling the world who I am, then why not? But it’s me right, so I gotta do it in some big way, so I thought I could set up a charity that provides safe houses to LGBT kids that get kicked out. Safe houses that allow them to stay in school do their work, have lives.”

“Tony-“ Bucky starts, but Tony finally gets the arm disconnected, which causes him to wince.

“And I was wondering if you wanted to help me?” Tony says, he spits the words out quickly like it took him a great deal of effort to get them past his lips.

“You want me to help?” Bucky asks incredulous, he’s not exactly the picture perfect upstanding Avenger that the rest of the team seem to put together. “Why not Steve?”

“Steve doesn't want to come out just yet, he wants to settle into this century a little more, which I think is healthy for him. You know for him the war was only a few years ago, he’s still recovering, I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for,” Tony smiles, “though he is going to lend his support to the charity, and make a public statement on the fact that the Avengers support everyone no matter their gender identity or sexual orientation. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come out with me? It would be nice to have some company.”

“How’d you know?” Bucky asks, his brain hurts slightly from the onslaught of information from Tony, but he mostly latches onto the fact that Tony totally knows a secret he’s been keeping for like 70 years. “Before, when you asked, you knew right? How’d you know?”

“I saw you,” Tony smiles a little, he’s handing over the arm to JARVIS, so the AI can paint it. “I saw you with Steve, I see the way you look at him,” Tony looks Bucky in the eye, there’s none of the sadness or disappointment or disgust that Bucky expected to see here. Instead Tony looks understanding and kind, he even looks at Bucky with curiosity in his eyes. “Okay, look, I’m going to wait for JARVIS to finish off your arm; you’re going to take Petey out for ice cream, Steve has SHEILD shit all day, then we’re going to go get burgers and have a proper talk about this shit. Honestly, it’s like neither of you guys knows how to speak, and if there’s one thing my therapist loves to shove down my throat, it’s that using your words is important. So we’re going to do that, yeah, we’re going to get burgers and talk about our feelings like adults. I can give Peter to Clint this evening.”

“Tony-“ Bucky is panicking, thoughts are going through his head at three million miles an hour, he wants to assure Tony that he’s not going to do anything, but Tony just pats him on the back shaking his head.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Barnes, we’ll work something out.” Tony stands up straight, from where he was hunched over Bucky’s shoulder. “Now, where did I stick that non-mechanical prosthetic…” He turns to a shelf that has a whole load of stuff on it, Bucky thinks he can see several different repulsers for Tony’s suit hit the floor before Tony pulls out an arm that looks just like any other prosthesis. “Here! The only difference between this and the arms they give you at the hospital is that this is made out of carbon fiber and vibranium, so like it’s pretty much indestructible, and I even painted a little “A” logo on the shoulder for you! It should just…” Tony walks over to Bucky, and slots the arm on to his shoulder. “Clip in like that, nice to know that works, I’ve never made anything like this so.”

“It’s great, Tony, thank you. Really you don’t have to-“

“How many times, Barnes, do I have to tell you that I have enough reasoning skills to know that it wasn’t you, not really. I know that you’d never do anything like that now. Should I record myself saying that I forgive you so that you can listen to it once a day?” Tony shoos him out of the workshop, “now go take my son to get ice cream, maybe see a movie or something, there’s a new Jurassic Park thing out; he’d like that.”

“Jurassic what now?” Bucky asks, looking at Tony with furrowed brows.

“'Have you been living under a rock the past 50 years?” Tony blurts out, an incredulous look on his face.

“No, I was cryogenically frozen for 70. I don’t appreciate your tone young man.” Bucky deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh shit, oh fuck. Did you just ‘young man’ me, Barnes? Oh, it is so on,” Tony’s laughing so hard he’s doubled over, there are crinkles around his eyes, eyes which are now filling up with tears. “Fuck me, Barnes, that was flawless.”

Bucky can’t help but start laughing too, Tony is completely bent double and leaning on Bucky to keep standing. It’s the first time Bucky has seen Tony like this, and he can’t help but fall a little more in love with him. Tony runs a hand through his hair as he tries to stop laughing, he has the goofiest grin on his face, Bucky wants nothing more than to run his thumb over Tony’s bottom lip but he holds himself back. Tony’s hair is disheveled, it curls lightly as it flops slightly over his forehead, Bucky has never really taken the time to look at it properly, he’s always just assumed it was brown, but he sees so many different colors in there now. He wants to reach out and wind his fingers around the soft silky strands, but he stops himself before he gets there.

“I’ll just…” he says, but he ducks out of the door before he can finish the sentence, leaving a confused Tony in his wake.

***

“Peter!” Bucky calls out, looking around the penthouse, “Peter! Where’re you kid, your dad said we can for ice cream and a flick!”

“Nobody calls them ‘flicks’ now, Barnes, the kid’s in Bruce's lab, I think they’re going over advanced cell biology. Rate the kid’s learning he’s going to be in and out of MIT by the time he’s eighteen.” Clint is digging through the fridge in the kitchen, “Oooooh hot pockets!”

“Fuck off Barton,” Bucky rolls his eyes, “Tony wants you to watch Peter tonight, he’s going out for burgers with Steve and I. And hot pockets are not food.”

“Hot pockets are great food, you’re just old. And sure, have fun on your date!” Clint pushes past Bucky, grabbing his box of not food and bow on his way out the door.

“It’s not a date,” Bucky yells behind him even though Clint is long gone.

“What’s not a date?” Peter walks into the kitchen from the other direction, through the door that leads down to Bruce’s lab. The kid is covered in marker, different equations, and such pepper his skin, he’s got some sort of dirt on the side of his face, but his eyes are bright and excited in a way they haven’t been since he got taken by AIM.

“Nothing, kid. I’m takin’ you for ice cream and that new Jurassic Island flick, your Dad said we could,” Bucky watches as Peter’s face lights up, “then Clint is gonna watch you tonight, I think he wants pizza or burritos or something, while Tony, Steve, and I go get burgers and talk about boring shit.”

“Oh, that’s the ‘not a date,’” Peter nods sagely, as though he knows everything in the whole universe. “I get it, and honestly it’s cool with me, that means three times the awesome presents right?”

“Peter,” Bucky is entirely out of his depth, he has no idea how to explain things to a thirteen-year-old.

“No really, I know what grown-up shit means, Bucky,” he grins, “as long as you keep being the fun dad, its fine. I need someone to sneak me chocolate cookies at night and stuff, so if you get to be my third dad that doesn’t mean you become all boring like Steve and Tony. Also, it’s Jurassic World, not Jurassic Island, Old Man.”

“Have you really not seen Jurassic Park? Where were you?” Clint chooses this moment to walk into the kitchen. “The hot pockets were out of date, I ate one anyway, but even I can’t turn that into a depression meal. Do we have any pop tarts?”

“I was in Siberia, being cryogenically frozen and then brought out to kill people, forgive me for not being up to date with pop culture.” Bucky sighs, he tries to be annoyed, he really does, but he can’t help the warm feeling that bubbles in the pit of his stomach and worms its way up through his chest. He’d been floating for so long, aimless, with no family to ground him; but now, now he has everything he’s ever really wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's coming the big talk is coming I promise! Next chapter it'll be here and get ready for some good Fury punching action cause you're gonna get to see what Stevie was up to at SHIELD! 
> 
> Thank you for the response, honestly I can't believe that this is real so yeah thank you!!
> 
> My marvel tumblr url has changed it's now: @trans-hawkguy!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T H E T A L K I S H E R E

“Steve, can we talk?” Tony says as soon as Steve enters the common area, he stiffens up, almost imperceptibly. Tony realises what he’s said and corrects himself, “not a bad talk, I promise.” Steve relaxes and walks forward towards him, Tony meets him, pulling him into a little hug; kissing his cheek, he says, “just wanted to tell you that Bucky, you, and I are going to get burgers and talk about our feelings and grown-up shit tonight. Clint’s watching Peter, he’s out with Buck right now, but they should be back soon.” 

“Our feelings? Tony, nothing is going on between Bucky and me,” Steve is shaking his head, his blue eye wide with surprise, “I wouldn’t do that to you, you know-“

“Steve, I know, I know you would never do that. This isn’t me saying you would, this is me getting sick of you two dancing around each other. Also, the other thing, you know… the press conference thing, I asked Barnes if he wanted in, didn't get an answer because he ‘young manned’ me but I also didn't get shot down so,” Tony shrugs, “we need to talk about that, and it’d be best if you were there, you know?”

“Oh,” Steve says, then his face breaks into a smile, “I thought for sure you were going to tell me you were done with this. With us. Are you sure about this, Tony? I’ve done some reading on this and-“

“You. You read about polyamory?” Tony asks, raising an eyebrow, his brown eyes glittering with something akin to amusement. “You read about a relationship like what we could have?” 

“I, uh, I asked JARVIS about it, and he pointed me in the direction of some very informative websites, I guess.” Steve shrugs, a flush starting to dance across his cheekbones, his bright blue eyes are slightly panicked like he’s a deer caught in headlights. Tony smiles, but softer this time, they’re still standing close together; almost touching but not quite, Tony reaches out a hand and lays it on Steve’s arm.

“It’s okay,” Tony nods, he moves closer to Steve, leaning towards him. “It’s okay. I get it. You and Bucky, you went through so much together, it’d be weird if you didn’t have feelings for him. And hey, maybe this whole sharing thing could be fun, but we need to talk about it, and you know I don’t do feelings talks without burgers.” 

“Hey guys,” Clint walks into the room, “you checked that your spawn is still alive? I wouldn't trust Barnes with my cactus, let alone my child.” He jumps up on the counter, swinging his legs as he begins to re-fletch his arrows. 

“Do you even live here?” Tony shoots back, “thought you had a shitty apartment in Bed-Stuy? Why are you here eating my pop tarts and interrupting my conversations?”

“I do have an apartment in Bed-Stuy, but Simone lost the electrics, and hot water in her’s so I said she could have mine while I bunk over here. She has two kids in school so she can’t deal without electric and hot water.” Clint smiles looking at the slightly shocked expression on Tony’s face. “Yeah, Stark, I’m actually a nice person. Do miss my dog though.” 

“You’re not bringing a dog here, that would make Peter want a dog, and he’s not getting one. They make my eyes itch, no matter how adorable they are,” the corners of his mouth twitch upward. 

“How do you survive?” Clint asks, but he’s smiling a little too, “could you come to Bed-Stuy at some point? Simone’s TV is playing up, and I think some wires got twisted, but I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Let’s see, is it going to be like that time you asked me to come fix your DVD player that was so ancient and hopeless? Because honestly, Clint, I am not sure I can deal with that again,” Tony says shaking his head but the gesture is full of fond exasperation. “Yeah, of course, I’ll help her out, just tell her to give Pepper a call, and she’ll put something in my diary.” 

“Thank you, Tony,” Clint smiles, and pointedly takes out his hearing aids. He turns back to fletching his arrows, letting Steve and Tony that he’s not listening or watching them. He signs to Steve, ‘it’s okay you can carry on.’ 

“So, you’ll never guess where we’re going tonight,” Tony turns to Steve, a smirk painting his face. “Actually, you might, because I hunted out somewhere that actually existed in the 40s.”

“You did?” Steve smiles, his eyes lighting up as he turns into Tony, “I wasn't sure there were places left.” He’s so excited that it melts Tony’s heart. 

“Yeah, I had JARVIS look it up, it’s not even far from here; I don’t know if you Brooklyn boys would have actually gone there, and it’s had a name change since but hey, it’s supposed to be good.” Tony wraps an arm around Steve’s waist, looking up at him with his big, beautiful brown eyes; Steve is so caught up in them that the whole world seems to halt for a second. “I heard they do the best chicken quesadilla in Manhattan-“

Tony stops talking as Steve kisses him quiet, he usually would be annoyed, but right in that moment he can’t bring himself to care; he’s too busy focussing on the way Steve’s hand runs through his hair. There’s heat in the kiss, and desire flows through Steve’s touches, but something there’s something different in the emotions that are pouring through Steve to Tony. He can feel how grateful and loving Steve is in the way his hand winds its way through the hair on the back of Tony’s neck, in the way his fingers play with the short curls of hair that rest there. 

Tony leans into the kiss, giving himself to Steve, letting him know that there are no ill feelings between them, hoping that his love translates across. Steve’s other hand comes to rest on his waist, stroking a patch of skin that’s become visible between the hem of his tank top and the band of his jeans. Heat scores every tiny piece of skin that Steve touches. Tony is addicted to this; to the way, Steve kisses him like he is the most precious thing alive. He loves how Steve holds him, how Steve manages to be innocent as well as pure lust at the same time. Thoughts surge through his head constantly, they swirl in his brain; Tony never switches off, not entirely, not unless Steve’s mouth in on his. Steve’s kisses stop Tony’s brain, they make his heart skip a beat. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers against his lips, “I love you so much. But, I need to know that you are one hundred percent with this because I couldn't stand it if I knew that whatever happened between Bucky and me was hurting you.” 

“I am with this,” Tony nods, in a way he’s trying to convince himself, he just squashes the emotions down and smiles. He knows that this is going to be good, but there is a certain amount of trepidation that’s eating into his mind.

“Are you guys done making out? You know that really isn’t appropriate for the common areas,” Clint mutters from behind them, “honestly, I think you scarred Bruce.” 

“Bruce was here?” Tony asks, cocking his eyebrow at Clint, who dares to smirk as he fletches his last arrow. 

“Yeah, though I think he left pretty soon after he saw you guys start playing tonsil hockey,” Clint laughs a little, hopping off the counter and looking in the fridge, “ooh pizza rolls! I wonder if I could dip these in coffee…”

“You eat like a college student,” Tony groans, resting his forehead against Steve’s shoulder, “there’s some more of Natasha’s borscht left over, maybe you could eat a vegetable for once in your life.” 

“I eat plenty of vegetables; honestly, Stark I don’t even live here you don’t know my life,” Clint sticks his tongue out and puts the pizza rolls on a baking tray and sticks them in the oven. 

“Tomato sauce doesn't count as a vegetable, Clint,” Tony shakes his head, “seriously this isn't a frat house. And can you stop fletching your arrows on the breakfast bar, you’ve left little tiny scraps of shit everywhere.”

“Don’t forget who volunteered to look after your spawn tonight, Stark,” Clint sneers, but there’s no real venom behind it. 

“Oh it was a bad time to walk in here,” Bucky is standing in the doorway, Peter is right behind him, craning his neck around Bucky’s arm. “Are you guys seriously fighting over pizza rolls?” 

“They aren't food,” Tony mutters rolling his eyes, but he smiles and winks at them. “Clinton eats like a frat brother. I don’t think I’ve seen him ever eat a vegetable. Not only that but he treats this place like a frat house, fletching his arrows on surfaces the people eat on, honestly.”

“Tony,” Bucky looks at him, a dawning realisation creeping up on him, “are you nervous about tonight? Is that why you’ve started this?”

“What? No! No, I am most certainly not nervous! How dare you suggest that I am nervous, seriously Barnes I thought we were cool,” Tony sputters as both Steve and Clint turn to face him, a bright red blush is spreading across his cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” Clint gasps, laughter erupting from him. “I’m going to leave you kids to it, come on Peter lets go, you can kick my butt at whatever game you want while we eat all of these pizza rolls,” he walks out of the room, with a huge plate full of pizza rolls; he takes Peter by the shoulder on his way past Bucky. “You guys have fun talking about all that adult shit.” 

“I wonder who has a higher mental age, Clint Barton or the actual teenager?” Tony mumbles as he slips into a stool, he places his head on the counter and starts laughing, or crying, he can’t really tell. 

“Probably Peter, honestly,” Steve sighs. “We all know that wasn’t really about Clint and his questionable eating habits though, was it? We’ll talk about that while we’re out, but before that, Buck; what was the movie like?”

“It was, um, good? I mean, the plot was weird? Why would you remake dinosaurs, that sounds like the opposite of clever, but yeah I mean it was good… the dinosaurs looked so real, Stevie, the things they can do nowadays, it blows my mind every time. And the main guy was pretty cool too, yeah it was a good flick,” Bucky grins and sits next to Tony, “so where’re we goin’ for burgers tonight then?” 

“It’s called Burger Heaven, it opened as-“

“Beefburger!” Bucky nearly yells, “we heard of it from my little sister! She said that mom saved up for weeks to take them there for her birthday, holy shit, that place was supposed to be the fucking best. Do you remember Stevie? She stole a menu for us and drew a picture of her burger on the back?” 

“I remember,” Steve nods, “we talked about how we’d use our army pay to go there when we got back to New York. It was like the biggest thing around town, this fancy Manhattan burger place that served the best burgers in the whole city. Most of the food I ate was boiled, and then there was this diner that served fried things, I was so mad that it opened when I was in France.” He laughs, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah! I actually looked it up to see if it still existed, but I didn't know about the name change, so all the google results came out with the definition of what a beefburger was,” Bucky is smiling so wide that Tony’s heart melts a little. 

“Yeah, I figured you guys would have heard about it, even if you’d not gone there,” Tony smiles back, “I know a guy and hired out the whole restaurant for tonight, didn't want any lurkers taking pictures and making assumptions.” He mumbles the last part, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I know you guys aren’t too hype about the press and stuff so I tried to make sure that no one would be taking pictures of this.” 

“Tony,” Steve says, “thank you, this means a lot, the fact you went to all of that trouble for this, it means so much.” 

“It wasn't any trouble, honestly,” Tony shakes his head, he looks tired and a little worn out, but his face is warm and open as he gives Steve a smile. “We should probably head out pretty soon though. Not before I’ve given Bucky his new arm; I wanna see his face when he sees the paint job.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to Beefburger,” Bucky grins, hopping off his stool, “and I get a slick freshly painted arm as well, could this day get any better?” 

Steve looks at Bucky with a raised eyebrow and a smirk dancing across his face; Bucky at least has the decency to blush and mutter something along the lines of that not being what he meant. Tony, instead of feeling left out, like the two had shared a private moment, feels like he is incredibly privileged to see two people so completely in tune with each other. When they turn and face him, Steve looking like he’s the cat that got the cream; Bucky looking mildly horrified, all he does is smile and walk out the room. He valiantly tries not to skip, but if he hops a little, then no one’s going to stop him. 

Bucky’s arm is a thing of beauty; Tony is almost in love with it, he’s certainly proud of it. Instead of just retouching the paint job on it, he might have replaced the whole thing. He may have wanted it to be a gift for Bucky, all he had done for the arm when Bucky had arrived was replace a few bits of the internal workings; to try and make it less painful for Bucky. The new arm is made out of vibranium, he’d been begging King T’Chaka of Wakanda for the metal to make the arm for weeks. T’Chaka had pulled through, and the shipment had arrived that morning. 

Tony smiles as he opens the clips on the box and presents the arm to Bucky. It’s honestly a gorgeous piece of engineering, slimline while matching the dimensions of Bucky’s flesh arm exactly. It’s lightweight, and Tony knows that it’ll feel as natural as any biological arm could ever feel. He had asked Bucky’s choice of colours as a finishing touch to what would have been a boring grey arm. Tony looks up and watches as Bucky’s eye widen, Steve’s do too, he knows that he’s done something right when Bucky gathers him up in a hug, squeezing him so tightly that Tony can’t breathe. Not that he minds. 

“That ain’t my old arm,” Bucky whispers in his ear, “that ain’t the HYDRA arm is it?” His voice is shaky and filled with a hidden depth of emotion, something that Tony has never heard from Bucky before. 

“No, no it’s not,” Tony shakes his head, breaking the hug and pushing the box towards Bucky, “I made it new for you, I know you didn't ask me to; I didn't get rid of the old one, I actually did the same colour scheme for that one too. In case you wanted that one. But uh, this is new, all of it. It’s almost all vibranium, like the one you’re wearing at the moment, but this one allows you to feel sensation. Touch, pressure, rough, smooth, hot, and cold, everything; you’ll be able to use it just like your flesh arm. Um, so, yeah… I was actually thinking about making a titanium-gold alloy version, one that’s less expensive to produce and pumping them into the VA.” Tony looks away as Bucky’s eyes grow ominously wet. 

“Tony,” Bucky picks up the arm, “this is crazy. I never had anything like this, I can’t believe this is mine.” His voice is reverent like he’s afraid to touch it, he holds the arm delicately in his hands. “It don’t weight much a’ anything does it?”

“Um, it’ll need to be calibrated, so it’s the right weight, and I’ll have to check up on the joint every now and then, but it’s ready to go right now if you wanted to try it out.” Tony smiles, he catches Steve’s eye in the background. 

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” Steve walks forward, he doesn't touch the arm until Bucky relaxes his hold on it, a silent signal that Steve picks up on; Tony is proud that he notices it too. “This is like a work of art, Tony.” He places a hand on Tony’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb in a circle; Tony leans into the touch, smiling as they both watch Bucky trace his fingers over the arm’s almost invisible joins. 

“Do you want me to put it on you now? I’m going to dull the sensations for a bit, not completely but I don’t want you to be overwhelmed,” Tony takes the arm as Bucky nods and gets into his chair; he’s practically vibrating with excitement, Tony is too, he wants to know if all the nights of getting to bed a three am were worth it. He takes the normal joints and connections and hooks the arm to them, making sure that the quick release is fitted and working. All the time he’s working he narrates what he’s doing, he tries to make it seem like it’s for Steve’s benefit, but he’s pretty sure that Bucky knows who he’s doing it for. “Okay, now it’s just this button here, look, you might need to know where it is. This button here turns on and off the neural transmitters, those are the things in charge of sensation; if you ever feel overwhelmed or anything then just press this for five seconds to turn them off, or a short, sharp press to turn them up and/or down.” 

There’s a tense moment where Bucky just sits in the chair, he’s breathing really slowly, trying to calm himself down. Tony hops from foot to foot, hoping that the arm is working correctly, he’s almost tempted to ask JARVIS to scan Bucky’s brain, but he holds off. Steve comes up behind him, resting a hand on his waist, grounding him; Tony feels all the nervous energy that had been surging through his body dissipate a bit. Bucky opens his eyes, they’re blue and electric, and alive in a way Tony feels like has been missing since the Winter Soldier had taken over. There’s a huge grin stretched across Bucky’s face; he rushes to his feet, and deliberately paints a line down Tony’s face, down his neck, and across Steve’s hand. 

“Warm,” he says, “your skin, it feels warm, not the way I remember, Stevie. Don’t have a fever heat to you now do you? You’re warmer than him though, he’s cool, like water; don’t mind though, ‘ts nice,” Bucky’s smiling, so wide in a way that Tony can only describe as completely happy. “Both of you have ridiculously smooth skin, that ain’t fair. I wanna touch everything now, this is the coolest thing ever, how am I going to be able to repay you?” 

“Don’t have to do anything, nothing, I don’t want anything,” Tony shakes his head, he’s acutely aware of how close Bucky is to him. They’re only a few centimetres apart, and Steve is a substantial barrier at his back; Tony can’t move anywhere, not with his workbench pressed up against his left hip and Steve’s arm wrapped around his right. He’s not panicking, JARVIS would have warned him if he were, but his brain can’t catch the train of his thoughts, and his breathing is fast. Tony knows that his heart is pumping out a quick staccato rhythm, but he’s too caught up in the electric grey-blue of Bucky’s eyes. 

He takes one calming breath before his places his hand on Bucky’s chest, “we need to talk about this. We can’t do anything before we talk, I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with you and the relationship I have with Steve by jumping in too quickly. I’ve jumped in too quick before, and I lost one of my best friends because of it.” Tony remembers Pepper’s face as she told him that she no longer held romantic feelings for him, their split had been as mutual as possible, but they were still not entirely on speaking terms. “I won’t do that with you two, so we need to talk.” 

Steve backs away from him, giving him a way out, which he takes but not entirely; he’s still close to them, just not in the heated way from before. Tony smiles up at him, before taking Steve’s wrist, waiting for Bucky to offer his before taking it, he leads them out of the workshop. They take the subway, with the old baseball cap, sunglasses, hoodies, and jeans technique; Tony wants a relaxed evening, one where they don’t have any veneer over themselves. He wants them to be as stripped back and open as they can be; that’s something they could never do in fancy clothes at a posh restaurant. 

***  
Burger Heaven is perfect, it looks as though the design of it hasn't changed since the fifties; Tony can see how excited Steve and Bucky are to be somewhere that isn't too far removed from a time that was only a few years ago to both of them. He smiles as he takes in the yellow Formica topped tables and chrome fronted kitchen, complete with window; there’s a bar with white stools and banquettes with cobalt vinyl covers. Steve is grinning as they’re lead to a bigger booth, one meant for four; slides in first, to his surprise it’s Bucky that presses in next to him. He doesn't hate the feeling of Bucky’s thigh squashed against his, though, he likes the heat of it. There’s something about seeing the open adoration on Steve’s face that warms him from the inside out. Tony surprises himself as he considers these feelings, he was going to tell the other two that he didn't want to be part of a throuple, that he was happy to try out the V relationship. Now he realises he doesn't exactly want that. 

“I’ll give you the menus now, and you can just yell my name when you wanna order, Mr. Stark,” Mr. Evan Cyprus says to him, slapping Tony on the shoulder. 

“Thank you, Evan,” Tony smiles takes the proffered menu, Evan leaves them, and Tony clears his throat. “We should start I guess, no time like the present. I was going to say, before this evening, that I didn't think I could do the whole three people relationship. I was going to say that if you two wanted to date then, that’d be fine like we could share Steve.” He notices how Bucky shrinks back from him, so Tony squashes the bubbling anxiety down, he thrives on the nervous energy that is pulsing through his veins. It feels like the moment Steve first kissed him, and he loves the electricity that is coursing through him. “I was going to say all of that, but then I guess something changed. I don’t want what I thought I did.”

“What do you want, Tony?” Bucky turns to him, sliding his arm around Tony’s back, he’s got a glint in his eye, but he keeps a respectful distance. Tony pretends not to notice the way Bucky’s eyes slide to his lips. 

“You’ve spent so long denying yourself the things you want because you think people will hate you for it,” Steve looks at him, his face is open and loving; Tony can’t help the thrill of excitement that shoots through him as he sees the way Steve is looking at him. “If you don’t want to try the, what was it? The V formation thing, then why don’t you just tell us what it is that you want if it’s nothing but what you and I have now then okay. If it’s more than that then, Tony, we’re both here; neither of us are running away or leaving you any time soon. No matter what you decide, but you do need to tell us what you want.” 

Tony looks down at his menu; he takes a deep breath, his heart swoops like it does when he takes a risky dive in the suit. When he looks up both Steve and Bucky are looking at him, not like he owes them something, more so with patience and indulgence. His heart is telling him to go for it, to take the leap but his brain has blocked the words from coming out; he knows that his face is colouring with effort. The corner of the menu is bent and dog-eared from where he’s worrying it between his fingers. There’s a churning feeling ricocheting through his gut, his stomach is twisting and turning; he knows that he should just take the leap, that he’ll regret it if he doesn’t, but it’s still taking him everything to actually do it. 

“We could try it,” he’s looking at Bucky, but he can see Steve relax and smile out the corner of his eye. “We could try and see what happens? Love is just science, right? So it would make sense to try it out and see if it works.” 

“We could,” Bucky says, he says them like they’re a secret, passed only between the three of them; his tone is quiet and soft, almost cautious. Tony finds that he likes the tone, it sends something through him, straight to his core. 

He glances between the two of them; they both show their happiness in different ways. Tony can pick out the signs of it in Steve, and he uses them to guess at what’s going on in Bucky’s head. There’s a moment where everything seems to still, where Tony’s breath catches in his throat. Steve gives Bucky a look, words are passing silently between them; Tony thinks he knows what’s being said. Bucky is suddenly pressed just a little closer to Tony, he’s looking at him more intently. Tony doesn't want to pull back, and this time he knows that he doesn't have to, that now it’s all out in the open. Just before Bucky closes the gap, Tony looks at Steve; he’s glad he did, Steve’s eyes are focussed on Bucky’s hand, where it rests on Tony’s arm. Red is prickling its way across Steve’s cheeks, and his blue eyes are completely obscured by black; any concern that Steve could be thinking that they were doing something wrong is dashed. Tony feels no guilt as he leans forward and brings his lips to Bucky’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly thank you all so much for the 500 kudos im fucking dead... and let me know how you all enjoyed the talk, i know they haven't even ordered their burgers yet but they're impatient and honestly so am i.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night. A press conference. A family.

A slightly strangled noise escapes Steve’s lips as he watches Tony and Bucky, the table is nearly split in half as he takes in sight before him. Never in his dreams has this talk gone as well as this; he had half dreaded this, he had laid in bed thinking about what would go wrong, now though he’s watching the two people he’s in love with kiss, and it is the best feeling. Bucky’s foot finds his; Steve taps Bucky’s toes, a silent approval of what’s happening. He can see the waiter studiously not watching their table, the kiss becomes more heated; Steve coughs a little uncomfortably. 

“Sorry,” Tony grumbles, though he doesn't sound particularly sorry; Steve can see an unasked question in his eyes. “That was, intense.” Suddenly they’re all laughing, as though a cap has been let off from a bottle full of pent-up steam. Something has been released, and they can finally let go; all of the hiding and worrying can finally stop, it’s an intoxicating feeling. 

“We should order, I’ve been waiting to try these burgers for like 70 years,” Steve grins even as both Tony and Bucky roll their eyes at his joke.

 

***

The burgers had been just what Steve had imagined as he’d read Bucky’s sister’s letter all those years ago in France; now though Steve is being dragged into the penthouse by his wrist, out of the corner of his eye, he can see New York glistening below him. Years have passed, but the city still has the same soul; he feels Tony move behind him, Tony’s arms encircling his waist and Tony’s lips against his neck. Bucky is there in front of him, broken and remade, the same but different all at once; but he still has the same core, the same soul, much like New York. Steve draws Bucky to him, their lips touch, and Steve is home. He sighs into the kiss, smiling as he feels Bucky’s lips turn up at the corners; Tony is running a hand down his back. 

“This okay, right?” Bucky pulls back, looking at Steve, “We’re okay, yeah?” One of Bucky’s hands is tangled in his hair, and the other is on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, this is okay by me,” Steve smiles, running the tips of his fingers down Bucky’s cheek, “this was worth the wait.” 

“Damn right,” Bucky nods, stealing another quick kiss before he reaches over Steve’s shoulder to Tony, lifting his head. “What about you, Stark? Are you okay?”

Steve can hear Tony’s breath catch; he can feel Tony’s hands grip his biceps a little tighter, he knows when Tony smiles and nods, then Tony is back to kissing Steve’s neck. Kissing Bucky is like coming home, a breath of fresh air at the end of the day; it is less weird than Steve worried it would be. He feels like they should have been doing a long time ago, but somehow he knows that it was right for Tony to be the one that gave them the push to do this. Steve also loves how he can feel Tony at his back, stable and warm, and practically vibrating with excitement; Tony’s whispering in his ear, he really hasn't stopped since they got home. Tony is everywhere, his hands are running down Steve’s back, through his hair, rubbing along the waistband of his jeans; Steve breathes in, and he can catch a mingled mess of Tony’s cologne and something that just smells like Bucky. 

***

The next morning dawns with a hazy pale glow, golden rays spread through the room as Tony opens blurry eyes to the rapidly brightening sun. The light glitters through the half blackout windows and lies across the bed. Tony turns first one way then the next, looking at the two men who are both stretched out beside him; he can’t help the grin that appears on his face. Bucky’s hair is spread across the pillow, long dark locks ripple out in a kind of halo; his hand is tangled in Tony’s where it rests on his stomach. 

Strong arms reach out for Tony, and he allows himself to snuggle into them, trying valiantly to ignore the sun as it calls for him to wake up. The whole world seems to come together and settle in its rightful place, as though this is how things should have always been. Contentment radiates out from their heap, where Tony is ensconced in Steve’s arms. For once in his life Tony’s brain is quiet, no stray thoughts move through his mind, he is completely content, with Bucky at his side and Steve at his back. 

Their legs are tangled in one big heap, flush together, skin on skin. Tony rubs his toe in circles against a calf, enjoying the feeling of down hair; though he wasn't sure who the leg belongs to. Bucky, who is usually stoic and almost grumpy when awake, seems vulnerable in sleep; his brows are relaxed, and his jaw has lost a lot of its usual tightness. Tony can see that he has some of the longest eyelashes he’s ever seen. 

“I can hear you thinking, please just go to sleep,” Steve whispers in his ear, “we’re going to have so many mornings like this, you don’t need to take all of this one in.”

Tony, for once in his life actually does what Steve says; he gives into the call of sleep and drifts off, letting the darkness take him. He remains asleep until JARVIS buzzes, he groans and considers telling the AI to ignore the call. Beside him, Bucky moans and puts a pillow over his head; Steve chuckles. Tony can feel the bed dip from where Steve has sat up, the pressure increases as Steve actually gets up.

“Sir,” JARVIS says, “Ms. Potts is on the line, it is about your press conference today. She is quite insistent.”  
“Can’t she just let me sleep? What press conference?” Tony sighs, cracking open one eye, feeling cold from where Steve has left his side.

“The press conference where you are to announce the charitable foundation, and your sexuality, Sir.” JARVIS sounds vaguely amused. “Ms. Potts has called you several choice insults now, Sir, you are advised to answer the phone.”

“That’s today? What time?” Tony wants nothing more than to press his head further into the pillow and snuggled closer into Bucky’s chest, but he knows that Pepper has put a lot of work into this, she’s been making phone calls all week. 

“In fifteen minutes,” JARVIS informs him happily. “Should I patch Ms. Potts through?” He asks. The cheeky sod, Tony swears colorfully. 

“Yes. Fuck yes. Patch her through to me, now.” Tony sits up, his heart pounding; luckily the conference was always going to be held in a room in Stark tower, so he doesn’t have far to go.

“Tony!” Pepper doesn't yell, she doesn’t scream, but Tony can see the nervous glint in her eyes. “You need to get down here right now. I haven’t even briefed you yet. God, I don’t even know if James wants to do the conference, I have a seat here for him, but you never told me if he wanted to come along yet.”

“I’ll be there,” Bucky mumbled into Tony’s hair. “I gotta shower though, I smell like sex.” 

“Is he there with you? Tony, what the hell is going on?” Pepper sounds a little flustered now like she’s stumbled upon something she really would rather not have. “Please, just both of you get down here, and make sure you look presentable, you don’t have time for hair and make-up now. Presentable means suits; not a pair of jeans without oil stains and rips, Tony.”

“Fine, we’ll be down as soon as, can you stall them?” Tony asks, stealing a kiss from Steve as he leaves in his running gear. Now that he’s up, Tony is running at a hundred miles and minute, his brain is working overtime; JARVIS has loaded Pepper’s briefing and is projecting it in front of Tony as he moves around the room. 

Bucky follows Tony’s lead, slipping into the suit Tony bought for him, he’s never worn it before; he’d scoffed at Tony when it had been thrown at him. Now he’s grateful to have it, he’s heard Tony call it his second armor; he can see why. When Tony steps into his suit, walls come up around him, and he wears that horrible fake smile like it’s been plastered on his face. Bucky wants to wipe it off, but he can’t do much apart from kiss Tony’s lips quickly as they head downstairs. 

Clint and Peter are in the kitchen; Tony pops his head in, Bucky can’t hear many of the quietly whispered words but before he knows it Tony is kissing the top of Peter’s head and leaving the room. Clint gives Bucky a thumbs up and a wink, Bucky can’t help but smile a bit before nodding, he does roll his eyes when Clint waggles his eyebrows though. Tony shakes his head and takes Bucky’s elbow leading him to the elevator. 

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know,” Tony says quietly, fiddling with a cufflink; it’s shaped like a tiny version of Steve’s shield, though to the untrained eye it would be easily noticeable. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this, not just for this charity or me.” 

“I’m not doing it for you. Well, not wholly for you,” Bucky shakes his head, taking Tony’s hand. “What you said about doing even just one kid some good. That was me, back in the day, ’n’ Stevie too. We had no one, back then, no one who was like us. Not in the media anyway. I didn't know that what I was feeling when I looked at fellas was normal, not before Stevie and I properly looked around Brooklyn. Yeah, I guess that got me thinkin’ what if I could help someone you know? To actually help someone by doing this, then anything that happens to me is worth it, I’ve been through worse; I came out the other side ‘a that with two amazing fellas on my arms. I know this charity is important, so I’m gonna do this.” 

Tony nods at this; he seems satisfied with Bucky’s answer, they spend the rest of the elevator ride down to the press room in silence. Their hands are brushing as the doors open on into the green room, Pepper rushes at them as they step out the elevator. Tony is bubbling with that nervous kind of energy, the one he always gets before he steps in front of the cameras, it’s the kind of energy that will leave him drained once it’s gone. Pepper’s talking about something that sounds like it could be significant, but Tony is too busy watching Bucky get put through the pre-conference ritual. 

***

They take their seats in front of the ravenous crowd of press, flashes go off as the paparazzi take pictures; Tony squints, it is still far too early for this, he has totally not had enough caffeine to deal with what’s about to happen. He watches as Pepper sits down behind the cameras, she smiles as he flicks through the cards she handed to him. They tell him precisely what to say, he mind flashes back to one particular press conference, one where he’s put down the cards that had been handed to him, it feels like his life began for him at that moment. Still, he decides that this time, he’s going to stick to the cards that are in his hands, he looks downs at them and then looks at Pepper. A small nod from her and he begins to speak. 

“I want to announce the Stark Homes Project,” his hands are shaking, “a project that is going to be rolled out nationwide in the next year. The Stark Homes are safe houses for LGBT young adults, too many of our LGBT in America are homeless due to hatred and bigotry. These kids are left alone with no one, they need a safe place to go, with employees training therapy and full access to online school programmes, the Stark Homes are going to be that safe place. Questions?”

“Why just LGBT youth? Why not all homeless youth?” The question comes from the guy with Fox News round his neck. Tony feels Bucky stiffen beside him, “why would you discriminate?” 

“Uh, well, I feel like I needed a connection to the addition to the foundation; this is a personal thing for me. Being bisexual myself,” The room erupts into a cacophony of noise, the press go crazy when Tony speaks, he just smiles and continues to talk above the sound. “I felt like I needed to do something for kids like me, for kids who experience the same kind of issues that I have also experienced. I wanted to give back to a community I feel that I have been separated from my whole life, so this is me giving back.” He nods and looks around the room, “any other questions?” 

“What does Mister Barnes have to do with the whole thing?” A girl with the red Buzzfeed logo around her neck asks. “Is he emotional support or did he have a hand in the foundation’s inception?” 

“He’s here because he wants to be, because he is supporting the project too, and because he is representing the rest of the Avengers,” Tony smiles and gestures for Bucky to speak. 

“He can also speak for himself, I am here because I support this project, I support Tony and the rest of the LGBT community. All of the Avengers do. I am here because when I grew up, we didn’t even talk about LGBT issues. It was illegal, a taboo to be hidden and swept aside. People were being killed for who they wanted to love, and it still happens today, maybe not to the same extent, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do something to help.” Bucky sighs, he’s shaking; Tony can feel it through the table, he can see in the way Bucky is sitting. “I couldn't live with myself because, as a gay man, it would be wrong of me to do nothing.”

***  
Steve is panting as he gets back from his run, he means to go around the back of Stark Tower, the entrance that looks like the back door of the restaurant next door, the way he knows that no one will bother him. There’s a crowd that spills out from the main lobby and on to the street though, a mass of people with placards and huge signs; they’re yelling and glaring at the building. Steve knows he’s been out a while, and that Tony and Bucky have likely already finished the press conference. He’s not stupid, he puts two and two together. The crowd must be a protest. They must be angry at Tony and Bucky. Anger bubbles up inside him, burning hatred. He’s been fighting all his life, not just in wars to keep these people safe but in battles against his own mind. Steve has only just come to accept himself being the way he is. These people, they come to his home and want to make him feel like he used to. Like he’s sick. He pushes down the rage, and squares his shoulders, he turns to the front entrance and starts to make his way to the crowd of angry people.

“Captain America! Mr. Rogers!” Steve tries not to stop. He really does. But he does stop. He turns to look at the person who called his name. “Do you support having Avengers who are gay? Is this the message you want our children to see?” 

“Ma’am, it would be awfully hypocritical for me to be against gay Avengers,” Steve smiles, he’s still trying to be polite, he’s keeping his Captain America persona firmly wrapped around himself, like some sort of safety blanket. He nods at the rest of the people, ignoring their screams and yells, and ducks into the building. His head is spinning, he’d told Tony that he wasn’t ready, that he couldn't come out, not yet. Though he’d heard what the woman had said and the words had come out; he’s in the elevator now, wringing his hands together as the numbers showing the floors grow higher and higher. 

“JARVIS, what happened at the press conference?” He asks. 

“Sir and Mr. Barnes started quite the storm amongst the press, it appears that one member of the audience ignored the no live tweeting rule,” JARVIS answers, “they were banned from future conferences, but the damage appears to have been done. Ms. Pots has come and gone, she is talking through the next move with the PR department at the offices in San Fransisco. Mr. Barnes and Sir are upstairs talking with Peter. They are waiting for you.” 

“Is Peter alright?” Steve asks.

“He is the picture of physical health, though he is confused about the situation this morning, he appears to be understanding,” JARVIS replies, his voice is somehow fond, Steve knows how much the AI has grown to care for Tony and his family. 

“Tony,” Steve says as he steps out of the elevator, “there are about one hundred people out there with signs. They made signs Tones, what’s going on?” Tony and Bucky look up at the sound of his voice. Bucky gives him a small smile, one that tells him they’d be talking later. Tony walks up to him, a grin plastered on his face. 

“You should have seen it,” he says, “their faces, it was wonderful. I’ve already started planning the Stark Industries float for Pride this year, and I’ve sorted out funding for some different charities, we should be doing more. There are always people who need help.” 

“Great, that’s great, but, Tony they made signs.” Steve can’t get the looks of hatred out of his head.

“Yes, Steve, they made signs. There are always going to be people with signs, but I love you, and you love me. That is all that matters. That I love you and you love me and that you, Bucky, Peter and I are a family. I don’t care about the people with signs, I care about my family, so if I’m happy and I’m not hurting anyone then fuck the people who don’t like it.” Tony pecks Steve on the lips then drags him over to the table where a plate of scrambled eggs lies steaming in front of his place. 

It takes no more than a slight hesitation for Steve to give in and let Tony sit him down to breakfast, Peter and Bucky are both laughing at a private joke; Tony is demanding to be informed about said joke. Steve pretends not to notice as Clint sneaks his dog through the common room through the door that leads to his room; he instead turns to laugh at whatever it is that Peter and Bucky are telling Tony about. He feels so at home, in a way that he thought would never happen again, it feels like a blanket of warmth has settled itself over his shoulders. There is not a spare thought in his head for the people outside the tower with signs, they are pushed from his head with his thoughts of love for his family. In the rational part of his brain, the part that he can never quite switch off, he knows that they still have so much to talk about; so much left to work out, but he forces himself not to think about it. 

Steve has never really felt so present in a moment, not since the serum, since the war, but for once he allows himself to be there when Tony reaches for his hand. A comforting presence, Tony’s warm calloused fingers seem to ground him, they hold him to the present. Bucky’s foot has somehow found his under the table, their feet are pressed up against each other. Steve notices that Bucky looks less tired than he has done in a long time. It is like some sort of invisible weight has been lifted from his shoulders, his hair is tied up in a loose bun and he’s wearing a ripped tank top and sweatpants, but Steve can't help but think that Bucky is beautiful. Tony is casting quick glances between the two of them, while he listens to Peter talk about his latest science project; Steve catches his eye, Tony winks which sends Steve into a fit of giggles. All thoughts of hatred and bigotry are gone from his mind replaced with thoughts of love and family, Steve has never felt so loved before, now though he feels full of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter took so long, honestly, I lost motivation to write this because I got Very Busy but I'm back and updates will continue. Let me know what you thought of this!!!


	12. not a chapter (im so sorry)

I'm on holiday and time and wifi have been less than available, so the next chapter will be up at some point in the next three weeks or so. 

 

Also I'm going into my final year of university in september so that means I have a thesis (10,000 words) due and I am working on that before I go back in the fall. So yeah... updates are going to be few and far between.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a cute thing until shit really starts to hit the fan.

It’s all over the internet in fewer than thirty minutes. Tony knows ‘cause it’s already trending he’s had twitter being monitored by JARVIS for any word on any of them. He’s watching the hashtag climb the ranks until it’s number one. JARVIS is scouring through it, reporting any of the hateful tweets (of which there are more than a few), Tony watches as the AI shows him the nice ones. 

>> wait. there are THREE gay avengers at least? nice #gayvengers #pride #fuckyeah<<

>>@tonystark just came out to my parents because of you, cap, and bucky #gayvengers<<

>>captain america and the other avengers represent doing the right thing even when it’s hard to do i am so proud of them all for sharing this with us #gayvengers #calledit #captainBImerica<<

>>I'm LITERALLY CRYINg!! #gayvengers<<

>>@tonystark a gay legend<<

>>the gays now own the tech business sorry straights its ours now #gayvengers #tonystarkisgay<<

>>saving the world is gay culture #gayvengers<<

>>tony stark legit announced a huge safe house project and came out at the same time He Did That<<

“Huh, JARVIS, give me a keyboard, I need to reply to a few of these,” he taps out replies to the tweets, ignoring the ones that spew hatred. He wishes those he’s inspired to come out the best of luck while informing them that if things don’t go well, the safe houses are ready to go; they only have to text JARVIS to get the address. 

“So, this has happened,” Bucky smiles as he comes into the room, sitting across from Tony. “Honestly I think I should get twitter, I wanna see what people are saying.” He looks at the screen JARVIS has just popped up in front of him, all the well wishes that are coming through Tony’s personal account. “Hey look, this World War Two vet has just come out to his family, ninety-five years old and he’s just come out.” Bucky shoots the tweet, from the vet’s son, over to Tony. “Tony, will you help me set up a twitter?”

“There’s a lot of hate on there too, Buck, are you sure you want in?” Tony raises an eyebrow, even as he types out a response to the veteran's son.

“I have been dealing with hatred since I was ten years old and I figured the ladies weren’t the ones doing things for me, I can deal with some faceless people on the internet; it sure beats being beaten up,” Bucky grins as he moves to sit next to Tony; it only takes them ten minutes to set up a profile for him. 

>>@JARVISofficial  
Welcome to Twitter, Mister Barnes @sgtjbarnesofficial<<

“JARVIS has twitter huh?” Bucky turns to Tony with his eyebrow raised, “didn’t think he could do that kind of thing, what with being a computer and all.”

“He has a lot of opinions, he needed to get them all out somehow, plus he’s useful; he needed an account to monitor Twitter for me, sometimes he even announces SI things,” Tony smiles a little fondly. 

“Sir decided that I should get social media to monitor the sites for mentions of him that could prove useful in the future,” JARVIS adds.

>>@tonystark  
hey look, kids! a fossil! @sgtjbarnesofficial<<

>>@sgtjbarnesofficial   
rude >:( @tonystark<<

“That was mean- Holy shit!,” Bucky breaks off as his phone starts to buzz with notifications, “I regret everything, I think my phone is broken. How many people are going to retweet that? Why are they following me, I don’t have anything interesting to say.” 

“Just roll with it, it’s good to have a place where you can announce stuff and to put your opinions. Also, it’s nice when people share little things with you like there’s this kid in Alabama, she wants to be an engineer, she sends me pictures of her robots all the time. She doesn’t have a lot, she bastardizes bits of stuff she pulls out the dump; she doesn’t know she has a full scholarship waiting for her at whatever school she wants to go to. It’s kinda cool to have somewhere where people can do that, you know?” Tony smiles, the corners of his mouth tilting up as the girl from Alabama tweets him, saying she just built a robot that opens and closes whatever door, curtain, or cupboard people need it to. She’s painted it rainbow and called it Tony. 

“Oh my god. You are such a dad,” Bucky laughs, as Tony shows him a blurry video of a rainbow robot opening a kitchen cupboard. “That is pretty cool though. Oh, look! The president just followed me!” JARVIS had been filtering the notifications Bucky had been receiving. “Holy shit, the president just followed me…” Bucky laughs again eye shining, “this is too much power for one gay to have. What should I say?” 

“Something nice, but not too nice, and a little funny too; we should revive Steve’s account, I made him one ages ago, but he never uses it.” Tony looks up at the ceiling, “JARVIS is Steve done in the shower now?”

“He is, Sir,” JARVIS confirms, “should I send him through to you?”

“Yeah, thanks, J.” Tony nods. 

Bucky’s looking down at his screen, he’s gained about ten thousand followers in the last few minutes; his account has also been verified, not that he really knows what that means. Most the tweets he’s been receiving are about this morning’s press conference. A lot of them are coming from veterans. He replies to as many as he can, he changes his header to a picture of Steve and him watching Tony fix Steve’s bike. His profile picture is still the default one, so he replaces it with a picture of him in his army uniform, his medals pinned to his chest; he adds the pride flag to his username. 

>>@stephup   
fellow gay veteran here thank you for having the courage to come out. got dishonorably discharged because of don’t ask don’t tell, we need more people in the army to share their stories. and welcome to twitter @sgtjbarnesofficial<<

That tweet makes him stop and think, he takes about two minutes to think of a suitable reply, he glances at Tony who’s looking at Steve profile. Bucky takes a breath, this is what he wanted to do, this is why he came out. To help people who may be in the same situation as he was. The woman’s profile picture shows her with what must be her girlfriend, he clicks on her profile; she’s a reporter for some LGBT newspaper. He smiles as he replies. 

>>@sgtjbarnesofficial  
@stephup dadt was a terrible thing the army lost many good soldiers because of it it should never have happened i am glad that i could help in whatever small way if there is more that i can do all people have to do is let me know<<

>>@stephup  
@sgtjbarnesofficial it would be an honor to interview you we could help spread your story the more people you reach, the more people you help<<

>>@sgtjbarnesofficial   
@stephup tony says to tell you to dm me?<<

He speaks to Steph, the veteran who works for the newspaper; it’s an online thing, but they also have a youtube channel, so that his interview can be filmed as well as written down. Bucky’s excited about that, maybe he can find his feet here, fighting for things he believes in without the violence that he’s accustomed to. Tony’s happy too, he watching Bucky talk through the details with Steph; his feet are propped up in Bucky’s lap as he lazily fiddles with some Stark Industries design. This feels far more intimate than anything they’ve done in the bedroom, its a feeling of being closer than they’ve ever been; no matter the sex or lust, Bucky knows that this is what he wants. He can see himself growing old with Tony and Steve. 

“Hi,” Steve walks into the room, his hair is slightly damp from his shower, and he hasn't bothered to put a shirt on. He leans against Tony on the huge sofa, not before he leans forward and presses a kiss to each of their cheeks. “JARVIS said you wanted to set up my twitter again? I still don’t know how it works.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been teaching Buck, figured I could teach you both at the same time. You got anywhere else to be today?” Tony asks, one of his arms snaking around Steve’s chest, pulling him closer. 

“Meeting with Fury at twelve, then I promised Peter I would help him train a little,” Steve shrugs, “I could reschedule the meeting? Why it won’t take that long will it?”

***

Four hours later and Steve is banging his head against Tony’s shoulder as Tony tries to explain the selfie Olympics, Bucky watches as he sends Tony more videos of cute dogs. They’ve shifted from their original position, once for a bathroom break and once for popcorn; Steve’s now cradled in the V of Tony’s legs while Bucky has his head in Steve’s lap. The screens JARVIS has in front of them are great, they can show several different sites all at once, Bucky is currently watching a video made up of many different videos of cats falling off things. Steve’s phone is still going crazy with people retweeting his first tweet. 

>>@steverogers  
bi means two so whenever you encounter a bisexual, there is a smaller, angrier bisexual hiding nearby. watching. waiting.  
(picture attached)<<

Bucky laughs as he opens the picture and sees Steve’s face with Tony’s poking out from just behind his shoulder. He saves it to his personal file and reminds JARVIS to print it out and frame it for their bedside table. It has nearly a million retweets already, and it’s not been up more than an hour and a half yet. 

“Hey, Steve,” Clint asks walking into the room, he stops when he notices them all on the massive sofa “oh, on second thoughts, its good, I got this.” He pulls a hot pocket from his jeans and stuffs it in his mouth. “Um.” He swallows quickly, “Peter’s waiting for someone to train him, he’s looking forward to jumping off some buildings.” He looks like he wants to be anywhere else than in the same room as the three of them. “Can you hang like a sock on your door later, so I can take out my hearing aids? I have heard many gross things but like, you guys uh going at it would make it to the top of my gross things list. Also, I may or may not have accidentally adopted a teenage girl? And a dog? They’re at my apartment, but I’m gonna bring them here, so okay bye.” He finishes the sentence and the hot pocket before anyone can actually answer him. 

“Shit, I forgot about Peter, he’s going to hate me; I’m not even ready,” Steve tries to wiggle free, “Tony come on, I gotta go train your kid, lemme go. How am I going to tell him that I can’t jump off buildings because honestly I just want to sit here and look at stupid pictures on the internet?” 

“I could do it?” Bucky says, “I’m better at jumping off buildings than you anyways. It’d be good for me to get out, I need to get back in shape again; I’m feeling like an old man.” 

“Ugh, if that’s you when you’re out of shape I can’t wait to get my hands on you when you’re back in peak physical form,” Tony leans forward and squeezes his bicep. “Yeah, I think it’d be better for Bucky to take Peter the first time he tries jumping off a building, not that I encourage that, I’d just prefer for him to be with someone when he does it. He’s my kid. He’s going to do anyway, I just want him to do it with adult supervision.” Tony pulls Bucky up so that they’re face to face, Steve turns around in-between Tony’s legs. “Make sure he comes back in one piece, yeah Barnes?” Tony grins as he kisses Bucky on the lips gently, before deepening it. Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes on them, burning into the back of his head, before he breaks the kiss with Tony and turns to Steve. 

“I got it Tones,” Bucky grins pecking Steve and pulling back only to be drawn in again for a deeper, longer kiss. “I gotta go before I’m physically made unable to move for the next couple’ hours.” He winks as he stands up and walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, even if it is a little short I needed something to make me get writing this thing again and so I wanted them to be happy and chill for a chapter before shit hits the fan and the big stuff goes down! Thank you all for your kind words about my thesis and stuff! It might be longer between updates and stuff hope that's all good!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings for a detailed panic attack and a description of a murder scene.

Tony’s sitting on the roof when Clint sits next to him. It’s three am. The wind is howling around them, but the roof is safe; Tony has installed an invisible exo-dome around it. It’s raining too, but the dome allows them to sit there, dry. Tony has been sitting on the roof since eleven pm. Since eleven pm eight days ago; he’s not moved a single muscle, he’s just been staring out at the city spread below him a map of glowing gold light. Everyone has tried to get him off the roof, none of them have succeeded; JARVIS has done everything an AI can do. He hasn’t even noticed the dark abyss above him, the thing that has stopped him from going to the roof at night since 2012. Clint worries more about that than anything else, Tony has this way of deflecting everything away from his anxieties, but Clint has always seen the way he never looks up when the sky is dark. Now though, Tony is just sitting, staring; he’s not moving off the roof to go back inside, he’s not glancing worriedly up at the dark; he’s not acting like Tony Stark has always done. Tony’s just sitting there, not talking, not moving, barely breathing, his eyes scanning every part of New York that’s lit up like he can see all the way to Washington Heights and through the hole in the light that’s Central Park. 

Clint has never seen Tony so still, not even when he’s hurt; he’s always in motion, whether its thoughts visibly racing through him or actual movement. Clint knows that when Tony Stark is still, something very, very wrong. Clint rubs the bandage that covers his forearm as he touches Tony’s shoulder lightly. He moves quietly, and if Tony isn’t in his right mind, then Clint doubts he was heard; he didn't want to scare Tony. Clint knows he looks a sight, he always does after a mission like the one he’s just returned from; he doesn’t know what to say, there are no words that could help Tony. Clint just sits next to him, knowing that Tony may shut himself up in his lab but that he also craves being around people. 

“They were supposed to be back,” Tony says, his voice a little hoarse, his arms coming up to circle his knees which have moved to his chest. “This wasn’t supposed to happen again.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clint sighs, “I know. They’re together though. Barnes will keep him safe, you know he will. He’d die before anything happened to Peter.” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tony whispers, as he turns to Clint, his brown eyes belie everything that Clint has ever thought he knew about Tony Stark. “I can’t fix this one. Not this time. There’s no trace of them; JARVIS can’t see them, he’s scanned the entire globe and nothing. I programmed a whole new algorithm, which probably should earn me another PhD by the way, and still nothing. I re-wrote part of the International Space Station’s code; hacked into NASA, which was easy just so you know it only took me an hour and a half, and. Still. Got. Nothing. Captain Fucking America ran around New York City, talked to the world’s best spy organisation, and the World Security Council, and nothing. I have nothing left to try, nowhere left to look, and no one left to turn to. Even with all my fancy toys, and my money, and contacts, there is nothing left for me to do. Do you know how that feels? I fix things, Clint, it’s what I do; what do I do now that I have been rendered completely useless? Because I can’t fix this.” The last words are gasped from a throat that is closing up; Tony has to stop talking as tears start to well up. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, sighing shakily as he squares his shoulders. 

Clint doesn't know how to answer if Tony has no idea how to fix this; Tony Stark the genius, the one they all always go to to help them fix things, if he has no idea how to fix this then Clint has nothing. He’d been out a week, a solid seven days looking for them, he’d gone to Asia; where they knew a HYDRA base was, the mission was only a partial success. There was no longer a HYDRA base in Manila. Natasha had taken Europe, somewhere just outside out Dubrovnik; where they had last seen a few high ranking AIM officials. The officials are dead now, and Natasha is sitting in the living room cradling Steve in her arms. They had worked solidly for the past week, in Steve’s case the past nine days, and none of them had found anything. 

Peter and Bucky had disappeared from their training session. No one has any idea who had taken them, where they had been taken from, when exactly they were taken; even the collective might of the Avengers hadn't been enough to find them. Clint sits on the roof next to Tony, as Steve falls apart downstairs. The only thing Clint can think to do is pull out a packet of goldfish and pass them to Tony. Tony takes them; Clint knows that he’s reliving the past ten days, he’s seen that look in Agents who’ve lost someone, he knows that he once wore that look about two years ago. 

 

***  
Ten days ago.

“Steve,” Tony says, shaking him slightly, “it’s six pm, Bucky and Peter are supposed to be back. Did they come home? Did I sleep through them coming home?” Tony asks, he’s slept through things before, but he knows that Steve never sleeps through anyone coming home. The super soldier hearing he has stops him from doing so; he wakes up from the sound of the elevator moving, from the sound of Clint rummaging through the fridge even when he’s wrapped up in their room. 

“What?” Steve mumbles into Tony’s hair, his muscles flexing one by one beneath Tony. “No one’s come or gone, Tony, are you sure it's six?” Tony can see them by the light of his arc reactor that Steve’s eyes aren't open; that he’s wearing a frown that speaks of him just waking up. 

“Yeah, it’s definitely six,” Tony’s starting to get little worried, “they were supposed to be back in an hour, right? We decided that Peter wasn't going to wear himself out before school, right?” 

“Maybe they're in the gym or something?” Tony can hear that Steve is starting to worry too, his eyes are open now, and tension is setting into his shoulders in a taut line. “JARVIS, are Bucky and Peter anywhere in the tower right now?”

“Mister Barnes and Master Parker left approximately five hours ago, they have not returned,” JARVIS answers Steve’s first question, and the next one he was going to ask. 

Tony feels the walls closing in on him, the room is suddenly too dark; Steve is suddenly too close. His chest feels like it is being crushed under the pressure of a thousand imaginary waves of icy cold water. It feels as though there is nothing he can do, that he is in a car that is spinning off the road and there is nothing he can do to stop it. Steve is saying something to JARVIS, probably asking him to trace Bucky’s last known location but Tony only hears it like Steve is behind glass. His body has become his enemy, his lungs won’t work properly and his brains won’t think anything but ‘not again’ the words repeat for him two thousand, three thousand times becoming more and more garbled with each repetition. Tony knows that he’s having a panic attack, he is violently aware of it, he can pinpoint the exact moment worry became fear which became something more. His entire world is off its axis, spinning wrong; he feels like he exists somewhere slightly to the left of where everyone else is. 

“Tony, love, c’mon, you’re having a panic attack. That’s okay, we can get through this, just remember to breathe” Steve is saying, his voice is low and he’s moved a reasonable distance away. The lights have been turned on but only just so that the room is visible. “Hey, it’s good to see your eyes.” Steve sounds genuinely proud of Tony, so he keeps looking at him. “We can leave if you want,” Tony shakes his head, he doesn't think that he can stand. “That’s fine, we can just sit here and breathe for a bit. Uh, I was going to ask how’s the building going with Clint’s new hearing aids? He’s even been bugging me about them, don’t know how I’d know anything about it but you know how he gets.” 

“The” Tony pauses to breathe in and out, trying to get himself under control, “the amplifier is giving me some trouble,” his speech is slightly slurred, like it always is just after a panic attack, “I want to” he has to pause again,” “to make sure its sensitive enough. I’m also trying to figure out a way to,” he hates panic attacks, “make it adjust automatically based on brain and nerve function. That will make it more like an external kind of ear, something that’ll work just like your ears do, but also something he can remove when he wants to; ‘cause I know he likes to do that, and I doubt he’d wear it if he couldn't take it off.” Tony doesn't know when he starts to talk normally, time is sometimes skewed after an attack like the one he’s just had. 

“Right, so what about the new suit you were making me, the one that had vibranium threaded through it? You said that sewing was never your forte, but you were trying to find a way to combine the original material and vibranium?” Steve maybe isn't as gifted with science as Tony, he’s never really taken the time to study it, but the serum has given him a brain that could handle things better than he’s ever been able to. He’s trying to take advantage of it, he’s never had the opportunities he has now and he owes it to everyone to use his brain; he knows he does.

“It’s okay, I’m back,” Tony pats Steve’s arm gingerly; his movements are still a little shaky, “thanks.” Steve is just grateful that Tony’s no longer scrambling away from him. “Your suit is ready, by the way, do you want to take it out? Test it, while we go see if Bucky’s taken Peter for dinner or something?” 

“Yeah, yes,” Steve nods and smiles. He watches as Tony stands, he can visibly see him pulling himself together; the things that make up Tony Stark slowly knitting together again. 

They work through the night, Tony’s been flying around in Iron Man longer than he ever really has before. He works for two days straight, not stopping; not sleeping until he lands on the roof of his tower with a thud, he’s empty handed of course. There’s no trace of them, only a single thread of Peter’s webbing remains on the roof the tracker last placed them on. Nothing beyond that; not on the roofs or on the ground, Steve has been searching the city from street level while Tony flies above him. Now he’s exhausted, only the suit, which JARVIS has taken control of is keeping him upright. 

“Tony, I’m going to head to SHEILD, see if they can find a lock on either Bucky or Peter; you should get some rest,” Steve sounds so tired, he’s essentially just run a two day marathon; but Tony knows that Steve won’t be able to sleep until Bucky and Peter are found or he passes out. 

“Yeah, I think I’m just going to stay up here a bit,” Tony says, yawning, the suit doesn’t come off though; Tony raises an eyebrow. “JARVIS, you can take the suit off me now.”

“With all due respect, Sir,” JARVIS sounds serious, “I do not think that would be in your best interest, not until your energy levels are within more normal parameters.” Tony considers this before he passes out on the roof. 

***

“Sir,” JARVIS’s voice echoed through the dome, “There is something on the police scanners-“

“What are the details, J?” Tony looks up, out of reflex perhaps, the sudden noise startles Clint our his daydream. 

“The murder of a high profile Ten Rings member. No trace of the murderer. The room locked from the inside.” JARVIS answers as Tony turns to Clint.

“You don’t think…” Clint asks, shaking his head. “It can’t be- it won’t be. There’s no way he’d do that right?” 

“Where’s Natasha?” Tony looks around, “JARVIS where’s Natasha?”

“Ms Romanov is currently in her room,” JARVIS answers, “she is not asleep, would you like me to inform her of the situation.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, “tell everyone else to get ready and meet me in the living room; I want as much detail as you can get on the case, J. Hey Clint,” Tony waits for Clint to look at him, “suit up.” 

The scene of the murder looks exactly like every other murder scene Clint has ever seen, and he’s seen more than his fair share. The guy was killed by a bullet to the back of the head, that’s pretty clear to see. He was obviously kneeling, facing away from his killer, he’d been tied up with something, there are still grooves in his wrists and on his arms from the stuff, but there is no trace of it left. Clint’s inspected the vents and even those are clear from any trace evidence; the cops have fingerprint swept the scene and nothing has turned up. Even Natasha looks baffled; she’s talking to Agent Coulson in hushed voices. Clint sits on the desk that’s in the corner of the room, it was clearly an office of sorts, but there are no papers or books left. He’s running his fingers over the wood, feeling the grain of it when he notices the mark. 

“Coulson, Nat, I got something,” he grimaces because he knows exactly what he’s looking at, he’s seen them before. It's a mark that’s been carved into the wood, and it’s supposed to tell everyone in the business who killed the man in front of them. “You seen this one before?” He asks Natasha, because if anyone is going to know this assassin’s mark then it's going to be Tasha. 

“This one,” she traces the star with her fingertip, her body is tense, like a coiled spring; her brow furrows as she rubs the nape of her neck, “yes. This is the mark of the Winter Soldier. I can guess who’s this is,” she whispers as she traces the spider, the spider with the star on it’s back. 

“Aw, fuck,” Clint groans. “Steve and Tony have gotta know and this is gonna break them, Tasha, this is going to completely break them. What are we gonna do?” 

“We can tell them the truth, and then we’re going to go and get Bucky and Peter back,” Natasha has that glint in her eye, which means that Clint won’t be getting a quiet night in with Kate and his dog. 

“Man, there are not enough pots of coffee in the world for this shit,” he sighs, “you go make sure that the others know what’s going down; I guess I’ll go talk to Steve and Tony. This is so fucked up. All I want is a pot noodle and nap with my dog.” 

“When have we ever got what we wanted?” Coulson pats Clint on the shoulder, “I’m going to make an official report with SHIELD, other organisations are going to want to be warned that the Winter Soldier is active.” 

Clint resists the urge to bang his head against the desk, he wants a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, a nap, some pizza, and his dog; they don’t even have to come in that order. Mostly he just wants to find his friend and the kid who is definitely family he just hasn't worked out how yet. He is also, very, very tired; he’s barely had a break in the past few days and his body is so close to shutting down. He is completely unaware that Natasha is passing him a five-hour energy until she's pressed it to his palm. 

“Here, chug this then go speak to Tony and Steve, they’re probably wearing a hole in the carpet downstairs at this rate.” She smiles before calling a team meeting and jumping out the second story window. 

“Aw, Natasha, no,” Clint mumbles as he drinks the energy shot. “Right then, why I always have to do the shitty tasks I don’t know but here we go. I don’t want to do this I just want a nap and my dog.” 

Natasha, as usual, is right; Steve and Tony are both pacing downstairs, they look up at Clint as he walks down the final few steps. Tony looks like hell, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing his workshop clothes, a tank and some tracksuit bottoms which are both covered in oil and various other stains Clint does not want to know about. Steve doesn't look much better, even if he looks less tired because of the serum; Clint doesn't know how to tell them what they've worked out, he doesn't want to tell them what they worked out. So he just sits down on a chair and cradles his head in his hands breathing deeply for a few seconds. 

“The guy was a member of the Ten Rings,” he begins, “he was killed by a bullet to the back of the head, we’ll have to wait till the post-mortem to find out what kind of bullet.”

“But you don't need to?” Steve guesses he’s pressing on a pressure point between his eyebrows, Clint only then notices how pale he is.

“No, we don’t,” he shakes his head, not missing the way Steve grabs Tony’s hand and leads them both to the sofa opposite Clint’s chair. “I’m really sorry guys, but Nat recognised the Winter Soldier’s mark. It was inside a spider-“ Clint can see the exact moment Tony Stark falls apart, he can see it in the man’s eyes. The last spark of hope dying as tears well up but don’t fall. “We’re going to try and get them back, we know where some HYDRA bases are and we’re going to run raids on all of them in the next few weeks. We aren’t going to stop, I promise.” 

“Thanks, Clint,” Steve croaks, “I’ll take him home, we all could do with some rest, I think.”


	15. 12.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big update is coming! So get ready, this is just a warm-up.

“Bucky,” Peter tugs on his sleeve, “Bucky, everyone is staring at us, why are they staring? We didn't crash into something again, and I don’t think I’m bleeding. Unless I have churro dust all around my mouth, wait where’s my phone? It was in my pocket, I swear if I dropped it Dad is gonna-“

“Pete,” Bucky croaks, “I think we’ve been gone a little longer than we thought.” He points to a missing poster that was stuck up on the side of a wall. Both of their faces are staring back at them from the photo on the poster. They were about seven blocks from the Avengers Tower, right where the two of them had gone to get churros, what they thought was only thirty minutes into their training exercise “That says we’ve been gone a year. Do you have anything with the date on it?” 

“There’s a newspaper stand about half a block that way,” Peter says, peering around the street, people have stopped in their tracks and are looking at them intently. Some of them are staring at them in fear; others just weary. When Peter starts moving though, they continue about their way with the usual apathy of New Yorkers. “Bucky, Bucky what do we do?” Peter asks as they stare in horror at the date at the top of the newspaper. 

“I think we should find a payphone and get SHEILD to come and pick us up,” Bucky mutters, “God knows what we’ve been doing and where we’ve been all this time, but I don’t think it’ll have been any kinda good thing, Pete.” 

“Oh,” Peter moans, “Dad, and Steve. If we’ve been gone for a whole year, what about Dad and Steve? Do you think they were taken too? Are they okay?” 

“They’re fine,” Bucky points to an article in the paper, the headline at the top of the page reads ‘Captain America and Iron Man: Give us back our family’. Peter smiles looking at the words, it builds something warm inside him, taking over the black feeling he’s had since he found himself on the street.

“They never stopped looking,” he whispers, his finger tracing the words, slowly as he reads the rest of the article; it is a desperate plea to whoever took him and Bucky, begging them to come home. 

“You think they ever would?” Bucky turns to him and raises an eyebrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about leaving this for like ages, but I've had A Lot to deal with for the past few weeks and honestly this wasn't my biggest priority. It should be back now with small updates every now and then, I can't promise anything but I am getting back into the swing of this slowly, there should be a bigger update in the next few days!


	16. Chapter 16

It has been six long, long months since Peter and Bucky were last seen and a year since they disappeared; even Tony and Steve are slowly losing hope. Four months ago they retired from public life, preferring to let the others manage Avengers’ press stuff. They still fight, every day against HYDRA and AIM and every other person or people who would take peace from the Earth. But, none of them can put the loss of two of their own from their minds. Steve often finds Tony sitting alone in Peter’s room, silently crying for the boy he had only had a short amount of time with, mourning memories they never got to make. In a way, knowing that they were still out there somewhere is even worse. It gives them hope, which seems unfair to Tony because he knows that even if they do get them back, they won’t be the same lover and son as they were. 

The coffee cup shatters as it hits the floor of the workshop, along with about five thousand dollars worth of scanning equipment. Tony curses as he wraps his cut hand in a rag; he kicks the poxy machine, it didn't work. All of his efforts have been poured into scanning machines, he’s coded, and built as he has never done before. But, none of it has worked, and now all he wants to do is curl into a ball and die. Part of him is grateful to Natasha and Clint; they worked hard to remove every last drop of alcohol from the tower; another part of him wants a drink. Every bone in his body aches, with loss. It is as though he has lost his purpose. Which he knows is a terrible thought, because he has Steve. Steve, who has been nothing but perfect, and good and gold like he is, but it hasn't helped, and Tony knows Steve knows. Though he continues to try every single day. Nothing will help, until they have people hold or bodies to bury. 

“Hey, Tones,” Rhodey smiles, as he walks into Tony’s workshop. “There’s something you need to hear, something you need to see, buddy. But, they want to make sure you’re in the right place to see and hear this. So they sent me.” Rhodey lays a hand on his shoulder, not even commenting about the shattered cup and computer on the floor; that’s how Tony knows it’s serious. 

“Rhodey,” Tony looks up, sitting down in the long-abandoned chair by that sat by his desk. “What’s going on? You guys have been silent for days now; I was beginning to think-“

“It’s okay, just something that you need to know; they didn't want me to tell you straight away, because you were still having that, you know… thing. So, that’s why I’m here now because you’re ready to know.” Rhodey is fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, not looking at Tony.

“Where are the bodies?” Tony blurts out because really, that’s the only thing that could make Rhodey look like that. “Can I see them?” 

“That’s the thing, Tones; we found them alive. There are no bodies.” Rhodey watches Tony fall apart. He’s seen it before; he’s been the one to build Tony back up from the ground, but not like this. It has never been like this before, not so whole and all-consuming. “They don’t remember the last year, nothing, their memories must have been completely wiped.”

“So what you’re saying is that they don’t remember systematically executing two entire terrorist organisations, and bringing down four world governments. You’re telling me that my son and my-“ Tony chokes out a breath that looks painful, “you’re telling me that my son and my lover have no memories and that they think it is still like 2014 when it’s 2015, and that they’re completely normal?”

“Yeah, that about covers it,” Rhodey, mutters “they don’t seem to know where they’ve been, Dr Banner is working on that, along with some SHEILD psyches. They’re going to try and bring the memories out, but we need your permission for Peter, he’s still under eighteen, so-“

“No,” Tony shakes his head. 

“What?” Rhodey looks at him incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “Steve permitted us to work on James. Tony you can’t hide this from him, this is too big, he needs to know; he won't just let a year of his life go without fighting to know what happened to him during it.” 

“No,” this time Tony raises his voice, “I fought for so long for him to have a normal fucking life, I did everything I could to keep him from things like this. And I only got a year, that’s not fair, they got longer with him than I did. So if he doesn't remember that, then all’s the better, I will tell him what happened, but I don’t want him to remember it. When he’s been told he can decide for himself. I cannot make that call for him; I won’t make that call for him. But right now, I want to hug my son and kiss Bucky Barnes so damn hard that if you don’t let me go and see them right now, Rhodey, I will suit up and blast past you anyway.” 

“I’m not stopping you,” Rhodey smiles a little, “Steve’s waiting for you, they’re being kept in room 103, he’s not seen them either; he refused to see them before you. Go to them. Go on.” Rhodey pushes him gently in the direction of the door, his hands on Tony’s shoulders, guiding him like a small child. 

***

Tony walks like a zombie down the hall; he stands in the elevator watching the floors zip by as the elevator goes to down to the guest floors. His mind is racing, gears turning in his head; his thoughts are churning, and he can’t breathe. It feels like his lungs are closing in, even as he leans on the rail inside the elevator; his knees are like jelly, and he can’t feel his feet. Tony gasps for air, trying to breathe some feeling into himself. The doors of the elevator open and he steps out into the hallway, his eyes catching Steve who is waiting outside the room. He stumbles forward and into the warm cocoon of Steve’s arms. 

“They found them,” he whispers into Steve’s chest. “They found them, Stevie.”

“I know,” Steve mumbles into his hair, one hand on the back of his head, stroking and tugging the short strands there lightly. “We’ve got the go-ahead to see them; I was just waiting for you.”

“Yeah,” Tony smiles against Steve’s shirt, “yeah. I wanna see them; I’m ready.” 

He can see in through the tiny window in the door; this room was made for housing people who they wanted to keep an eye on. Mostly in case someone was severely injured and had to be kept under observation. Bucky looks almost the same as he did, his hair is longer and in worse condition than it had been. Peter had changed so much, so much that Tony didn't want to think about it. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and opens the door. 

The first thing he feels is Bucky, big muscular arms scooping him up off the floor; lips are pressed against his, hot and insistent. Tony doesn't even think about not returning Bucky’s kiss; he’s waited all year to feel this feeling again. Bucky’s lips are slightly chapped, and his metal hand is cool against Tony’s cheek. Bucky strokes Tony’s cheek with his thumb, Tony’s arms are winding themselves around Bucky’s waist, resting at his hips; he strokes the tiny strip of skin that’s exposed from where Bucky’s t-shirt has ridden up. 

“Gross,” Tony jerks back when he hears Peter’s voice, his son is grinning even though he’s trying to make a disgusted face. Tony steps back, letting Steve pass him, as he reaches for Peter who flings himself into Tony’s arm without further ado. Tony finds himself being bowled into the couch, which is crammed into a corner of the room and not built for a fourteen-year-old who is almost taller than Tony. Tony, who isn't tiny himself thank you very much. 

“Why won’t they tell me what happened, Dad?” Peter looks up at him, his eyes wide and confused, big and brown and just like Tony’s. “No one will tell me what I was doing for a year; it’s so weird like I feel as though I was just here yesterday, but then I look at the date on that calendar, and it’s messing with my brain.” 

Tony still can’t quite believe that he’s sitting here holding Peter in his arms. Peter, who had grown so that he was nearly as tall as Tony, and honestly twice as strong; his hair had been grown out, and it looked like it had been dyed a honey blonde, but nothing had changed as Peter curled into Tony’s arms. Steve is currently sitting with Bucky leaning against his legs; Bucky has a few of his memories back; they’ve been in Avengers Tower for a few days, long enough from him to have undergone some treatment. He’s got huge dark circles under his eyes, but he looks mostly at peace. The Winter Soldier seems to have been easier to dispose of this time. 

“They wanted to let me tell you, but I’ve been… a little busy the past few days, so you’ve had to wait. Sorry, kiddo- well you’re not a kid, now, still, I reserve the right to call you kiddo, kiddo.” Tony tries to smile, he almost kind of manages it, but it turns out to be just a weird jerk of his mouth. 

“What happened to us?” Peter asks again, and now Tony knows that there is no running and hiding from this problem, not when it involves his son. Tony runs his hands through Peter’s hair, feeling the soft, clean strands underneath; he’s missed the feeling of holding his kid in his arms. 

“You were taken, by HYDRA, we think,” Tony starts, “you were taken from a training exercise, which I guess you remember. We don’t how, or exactly when, or even where you were taken. We barely know what you’ve been doing, we have an idea, but we were hoping in time you’d tell us yourself. Bucky has already been doing the treatment, but I wanted you to have some time.”

“Why? I wanna know,” Peter shifted so that he could look Tony in the eye, “I don't wanna leave you guys in the dark if I can do something about it.” 

“That’s the thing, we can get all the answers we need from Bucky,” Steve starts, looking at Tony, “we don’t need you to remember. Peter, the memories from your time away from us will likely be horrible; your dad doesn't want to put you through getting those memories back, not unless it is completely your choice.”

“It doesn't mean no forever, Pete, just that we need to talk through things a lot more before we agree to give you the treatment.” Tony smoothes back the hair from Peter’s forehead, he smiles at Steve to thank him for putting things into words, “for now I just want to make sure you’re safe and as happy as possible, we can keep talking about this and we’ll go to some therapy sessions where we can talk some more with someone who knows what they’re talking about. How does that sound?” 

“I guess, I don’t want to remember if I did something horrible,” Peter sighs, he shivers a little, “But I do want to know some things, I feel like there’s a gap in my head. I know time has passed, but I can’t see myself as part of it.” 

“We can talk about that,” Bucky mumbles, “I know exactly what you mean. I’m already seeing a therapist for it, so maybe if your dad says yes, you could sit in on one of my sessions and see if you think it’ll help for you to go too.” 

“There’s gonna be a lot of sitting and talking about things, kiddo,” Tony presses a kiss into Peter’s hair, thankful that Peter didn't flinch away from him, or hate that his Dad was horrendously uncool. “Sorry, Petey, but we’re going to be having a lot of conversations over the next few months, maybe years. We also need to talk about what we’re going to do about school.”

“I want to go back to school!” Peter almost yells, his voice is raised above a reasonable volume, and he looks panicked. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Pete, that’s going to take some time. We’ll try and get you back for the next school year in the fall but, definitely not for the rest of this year. Maybe we can sit and talk about it in the spring. We can get you a tutor to cover the stuff you’ve missed and then if they think you’re where you should be, we can see about getting you back to school, how does that sound?” Tony tries to quell his anxiety over sending Peter back to school; he was going to have to sort out more therapy sessions for himself over the next few weeks. “Right now though, if you’re ready we can get you set up in your old room. There are a few people who wanna say hello to you, how do you feel about that?”

“Yeah,” Peter smiles up at him, he looks so grown up that Tony’s heart squeezes, “what’s for dinner?” 

“Really?” Tony laughs and raises an eyebrow, “really?” Peter nods laughing a little himself, “wow, okay I think Clint is ordering pizza as I speak, that good?” 

“More than good,” Peter grins, and Tony hugs him even closer, dreading the minute he’s going to have to let his son go again. “Love you, Dad,” Peter whispers into Tony’s chest. 

“I love you too, kiddo,” Tony looks over to Bucky, who hasn't let Steve go since he let Tony go. Tony smiles over at him, and mouths love you to the both of them; Bucky smiles back a little tired, a little broken but there and alive. Steve runs his hand through Bucky’s hair and mouths the words back to Tony. It has been a long, long time, but Tony finally feels at home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so updates are gonna be shorter from now on, honestly 3-4k per chapter was hard for me to do, and it's harder now what with being at uni and doing my thesis and three other essays I have to do this term, including like two exams so yeah expect updates to be 1-3k in length!


	17. The End.

It’s Christmas in New York, the morning has only just dawned but Tony and Bucky are in the kitchen already bickering over the turkey. Steve’s just got back from his run; he can hear them even as he steps out the elevator. Peter isn’t up yet, he probably won’t be for another couple of hours or so. Today is the day that they’d decided to announce to the world their little family. Steve is honestly quite looking forward to breaking the internet. Things over the past year haven’t been easy, and he’s anticipating the joy and happiness they’ll feel when they can finally no longer hide. Getting Buck and Peter back had been hard. The hardest thing they’ve each ever gone through, but Steve knows that it’s made them stronger. As a unit they’ve never been better. And they’re happy, really happy. He looks at his face in a panel of reflective glass, his cheeks are rosy and the end of his nose is bright red from the cold. It had started snowing not an hour into his run and he’d got pretty cold out there.

Steve pads through the living room, spotting the presents under the tree. He’s been prodding at his for the last few weeks but he’s not been able to tell exactly what they are. Natasha’s present to him is probably the most intriguing. It’s a long black box. It has a red ribbon tied around it. But apart from that Steve has no idea.

“Stop picking at the presents,” Tony comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Steve. “Or I’ll have JARVIS make this area out of bounds for you.” Tony pecks him on the cheek, Steve spins around and draws him in. Then they’re kissing properly, Tony’s lips are soft and warm against his and it feels like Steve is home, wonderfully; truly; deeply, at home. “Alright, now it really is Christmas,” Tony laughs. He looks so happy, it’s infectious. “Why don’t you go get a shower and then we can definitely find some mistletoe to get lost under for, I don’t know, like an hour?”

“Not without me, I hope,” Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s cheek, “you were up n’ gone pretty early this morning. Long run was it?” Steve kisses him back, before he ruffles his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says, like he wasn’t picking up their presents, “I didn’t want to miss anything, I thought I’d get the run out the way so I could come home for breakfast.”

“Hmm,” Bucky smirks, “you know your ears always go red when you’re lying?” He laughs out loud when Steve blushes hard. “Don’t worry, Stevie, you’ve always been a last minute shopper. The others are getting here a little later, Clint refused to get over here before ten am, cause he sucks. Bruce said he’d be here earlier to help me and Tony cook. Go get a shower or you’ll miss them arriving.” He runs his hand across Steve’s shoulder.

“Care to join?” Steve asks them both, “we’ve got time…”

“Can’t, Buck and I have already started cooking; Pepper and Rhodey are going to be here in a minute and Peter’s alarm is about to go off,” Tony laughed, tapping Steve on his ass, “go on, the sooner you get a shower the sooner you can join in the festivities.”

***

Lunch started at two pm, and it didn’t finish until well after six. Though no one shows any inclination of going home as they all gather in the living room. They’ve been really patient, barely anyone has mentioned the huge mound of gifts under the tree. Even Peter, who is young enough to be super excited, hasn’t mentioned the presents. But Tony is now shifting with anticipation as he eyes the boxes. Steve laughs as Tony wriggles next to him. Natasha is smirking at them from where she’s curled up on the sofa with Clint’s head in her lap. Lucky, Clint’s dog, is thumping his tail lazily against the floor. Bruce is napping in the recliner next to the sofa where Tony, Steve, and Bucky are cuddled up together. The others are all crowded around Peter’s new game that Tony spent most of November designing. They’d allowed him to have it whilst they were waiting for lunch; it was easier to keep a fifteen year old occupied with a game than it was to try and keep him busy with something else.

“Why don’t we do presents now?” Steve says, running his hand through Tony’s hair, his other hand is resting Bucky’s ankle. He’s not sure he could feel more content than he is right now. And, he’s reluctant to leave his spot but, Tony is getting more and more restless beside him so he’s not sure his peace would last much longer anyway.

“Yes!” Tony shouts as he jumps up and runs to the tree.

Honestly, Steve forgets if Tony is the child and Peter the adult. He chuckles, but then he’s presented with a small, square box. He looks up. Tony is kneeling in front of him. On one knee. Bucky is grinning, he’s fiddling with something in his pocket. Steve’s throat knits itself shut. Tony is taking a deep breath. The others are smiling as they gather around them.

“Steve, we’ve been through so much over the past few years,” Tony begins, his voice is surprisingly steady. “And without you, I don’t think I could possibly have survived it all. I know we’re already a family, the four of us. But I wanted to make it official, I wanted to show you that I’m committing. You’ve helped us all so, so much and I want to keep you forever, if you’ll allow it. This is it. So, Steve Rogers, will you do me the honour of being my husband?”

“Tony,” Steve is smiling so wide his jaw is aching, “I can’t believe you beat me to it,” he laughs even as tears start to pour down his cheeks. “Yes. I will be your husband. Buck-“

“It’s okay,” Bucky smiles, “we talked, and I have a ring as well.” He shows Steve his ring, red and gold wind through a thick band in a plait. “And Tasha is actually ordained, so she’s gonna marry us all. Stuff the rules, right?”

“Stuff the rules,” Steve mumbles as he buries his face in Bucky’s neck, he curls his hand around Bucky’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. “Stuff the rules. You’re both stuck with me now, unfortunately.”

“We should do that post,” Tony laughs, pulling out his phone. “Come on Steve, Bucky, Petey. Are you ready to break the internet?”  
They stand infant of the tree, Peter insists on taking a selfie before the actual photo, so he can post that on instagram, or whatever. Tony just uses twitter to argue with bigots, and to remind everyone what charities SI is giving to; but he has quite the following on there. Bucky is the surprising one though, he has more followers than even Tony, and apparently is very good at ‘shit posting’ or whatever that is. So they gather in front of the tree, Steve is kissing Bucky’s cheek Tony has his arm slung around Peter’s shoulder, Steve and Tony’s hands are twined together. They’re each wearing stupid Christmas jumpers; Tony even has a Santa hat perched atop his head. Each of them gets to vet the photo when it’s been taken. Steve emails it to himself, because he’s a dinosaur that can’t figure out Smessage. Tony grabs his phone after Bucky’s finished putting a cartoon penguin sticker on the photo.

He taps out a tweet:

>>@tonystark  
from my family to yours, have a very merry christmas, and if you don’t celebrate christmas have a very good day.  
ps: it’s a spring wedding guys.  
picture attached. <<

“Ready to break the internet?” Tony grins up at Bucky and Steve, the others have slowly filtered out the room, most of them heading to the bar. It’s a private moment. Well, as private as it can be with so many people around. “Peter! Have you posted to instagram yet?”

“Just about to, you wanna see,” Peter bounds over.

>>pbnstark  
my dads are better than yours  
#ihavethreedads #theycombinetomaketheultimatedad #merrycrisis<<

“We combine to make the ultimate dad,” Tony laughs, his face breaking into a huge smile, “it’s perfect Petey. On the count of three, let’s break the internet. One. Two. Three.” They press post. “JARVIS. Turn all notifications off for every device on the Stark Network in this building. Put out the statement that we prepared last week and send it to the New York Times.”

“Certainly, Sir,” JARVIS says.

“Send a tweet from the official account stating that we might give a press conference in the New Year, if we feel like it. And say that we don’t want loads of people camping outside, campers will be dealt with in the usual way.” Tony smiles, “I’ll give them hot chocolate and ask them nicely to leave.”

“Can we come back now?” Clint pops his round the door, “also why are my twitter notifications off? Do you have something to do with this, Stark?”

“We just, uh, announce our marriage?” Bucky smiles as Clint’s jaw dropped. Over the past few years, they’ve become good friends. Grudgingly. And it’s a friendship neither of them admit to.

“Oh God.” Clint says, “okay I’m not going on social media for the next month. But we’re okay to come right? You’re not having a moment or anything? If I have to see you kiss one more time I swear I’ll gouge my own eyes out.”

“No you won’t if you lose them then you won’t be able to shoot arrows at things,” Bucky grabs Clint and pulls him into the room; the others all came pouring back in.

“Tony,” Pepper has tears in her eyes, “congrats,” she gives him a huge hug and nearly breaks his ribs as she does so. “I’m so proud of you. The things you’ve been through and you’ve come out the other side stronger and better.”

“And I broke the internet,” Tony laughs as he hugs her back, his closest friend, “I would never have been able to do all of this without you, Pep,” they stay there hugging for a long time, until Tony feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Got any lovin’ for me?” Rhodey asks, taking Tony away from Pepper, “it’s not every day your best friend gets engaged. Never thought I’d see the day that someone managed to tie you down, Tones,” Rhodey is laughing as he gives Tony a hug; Tony can see over his shoulder that Steve is getting a clap on the back and firm handshake from Bruce and Bucky is getting a cautious hug from Natasha.

“Hey JARVIS, how many re-tweets are we on at the moment?” Steve asks; he still looks at the ceiling when he talks to JARVIS, it makes Tony grin every time. Like JARVIS is living in their ceiling, which now that Tony thinks about it, he may as well be. Which is creepy, so he shelves that thought.

“You are currently on three million re-tweets; the majority of the comments are overwhelmingly positive,” JARVIS says, and Tony swears there’s a little bit of love in his voice.

“And my instagram post?” Peter looks at Tony, he walks over to where Tony’s standing; he’s just at the age where getting hugs off your Dad is becoming uncool, but Tony pulls him in for a hug anyway.

“Your instagram post has a million likes, Master Stark,” JARVIS answers.

They sit down, all of them, all together, and open their presents. Tony can’t remember a better Christmas. The last three years had been hard, so hard, but now Tony has his family and his friends and he can’t quite believe how happy he is.

 

***

 

>>@helen_c  
omg you’re getting married! that’s so cute im screaming!<<

>>@blckdog  
holy shit, I called it! I freaking called!<<

>>@Beyonce  
@tonystark I’m coming!<<

>>@TheEllenShow  
@tonystark congrats!! hope there’s a seat for me!<<

>>@BarakObama  
@tonystark congratulations all of you.<<

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done. Thanks for coming on this ride. This really isn't the ending I'd envisaged but it's nice one, I was going to continue this story, but I really can't. It's too much what with my degree, and my novel. But leave a kudos and a comment if you've enjoyed this story.
> 
> Thank you all for leaving the kudos and the comments you have! It means a lot to me, really it does and I really appreciate every one of them. 
> 
> yell at me on tumblr: @trans-hawkguy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first foray into Avengers fic, tell me what you thought, hope you liked it. This shouldn't be too long a fic, but chapters and updates might be a little sporadic what with finals and such. I am aiming for bi-weekly, but that might change. 
> 
> Tell me how I did - kudos and comments keep me writing as well as make my writing better! 
> 
> Yell at me on my marvel tumblr - @wxntxr-sxldxxr!


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